The Serpent's Curse
by Alatus
Summary: Morgana is hatching a new plot against Arthur. With the aid of her sister, and a curse that could bring Camelot to its knees, it's all up to Merlin to stand in their way. But the effort of keeping Arthur alive is running Merlin into the ground, and this time, battling a curse may cost him more than just the secret of his magic. Spoilers up to S3 Ep8.
1. A Quest

**Disclaimer:** I do not own / hold the rights to the TV show Merlin. This is purely for entertainment purposes.

Please note this story contains **SPOILERS** up to Season 3 episode 8 'The Eye of the Phoenix'. Beyond that, sit back, relax and enjoy!

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 **Chapter 1: A Quest**

Morgana had declared war against Camelot. Not that this was a new thing, no, Morgana had been trying to kill Uther for a while now. No, the difference was that she had now set her sights on Arthur. She'd decided he was fair game, a target in their little war that was going on behind the royals backs, and it was taking _everything_ Merlin had to keep the prince out of harms way. Morgana knew it too, and was gleefully watching him run himself into the ground.

Merlin stifled another yawn, as he dragged his feet toward Arthur's room. He'd spent the whole night thwarting another attempt on the crown prince's life. This time it was courtesy of a bought off guard, a cursed weapon and, oh yeah, Morgana. Entering Arthur's room, the secret warlock shuffled his way over to the table, carelessly dumping a tray of food he'd been carrying onto the wood surface, and made his way over to the curtains.

With a deep breath, he threw them wide, calling out loudly, "Up and at 'em, you–" His back was to Arthur so he didn't notice the pillow the prince hurled at him until it plowed right into the back of his head. He crashed face first into the window, and with a yell, fell back, clutching his nose. "What was that for!" He glared down at the pillow and then at the prince, who had once more fallen asleep. "Arthur!"

He rose, marching over to the bed, and yanked the prince's covers away. Arthur protested loudly, but Merlin wasn't having any of it. "Up," he snapped, stomping off to pick up the clothes Arthur had strewn everywhere, and giving him the perfect excuse to inspect the room for any of the little surprises Morgana had taken to leaving about.

"You're in a fine mood this morning, I see," Arthur said testily, finally rolling out of his large featherbed. Merlin sent him a withering glare, before returning to his search, missing the concerned frown the prince shot at his back. "Have you actually been to bed, Merlin?"

The secret warlock paused, taking in his own rumpled clothes, the same ones he'd worn yesterday. "No," he said, because there was no way Arthur wouldn't see right through that lie. He hadn't had time to drop by his room for a change of clothes, and… he hadn't wanted to worry Gaius. His guardian was already concerned enough as it was. Merlin didn't want to make it worse.

"And what, exactly, were you doing then?"

He should have known that question would be next. Back still turned to the prince, Merlin shut his eyes for a brief second, which was when a pulse of magic made itself known in the room. His eyes snapped open, zeroing in on the washbasin. There!

" _Mer_ lin."

"What?" He glanced back to find Arthur glowering at him. "Oh. I couldn't sleep." He strode across the room, gaze fixed on the water pitcher. Keeping up appearances he fished up a nearby stray sock, before carefully examining the tainted object. He didn't dare try to touch the finely crafted metal, not after the last spell had nearly taken his hand off.

Ha, that hadn't been fun. He'd been forced to explain to Arthur why his favourite belt was suddenly no more. Thankfully Arthur had bought his lie, but hadn't taken the crack about his weight well. He'd retaliated by doubling Merlin's workload, and as of yet, had not returned it to normal, but Arthur was still alive, so… yeah. Merlin just wished there were less chores involved.

Behind him, Arthur flopped down into a chair to start his breakfast. Good. Merlin knew the table, at least, was clear of nasty curses. The subtle enchantment of protection he'd cast on the breakfast platter would go a long way to keeping Arthur safe too.

Hopefully it would also give him time to break whatever spell Morgana had placed on the water pitcher. Shifting carefully so that his back was fully set to Arthur, and shuffling the pile of laundry he was holding to one arm, Merlin drew a deep breath. Arthur was as distracted as he could be, his breakfast tended to do that.

It was now or never.

Cautiously he stretched his hand out to hover before the pitcher and with a flash of gold in his eyes, he began to coax Morgana's spell gently away from the object she'd attached it to. It was something he'd been playing with recently, coaxing a fully formed spell away from an object. It was dangerous, but so far, it was the only way Merlin knew how to get a better read on spells that had already been cast. It was his best chance at finding the counter, and saving the poor little pitcher Morgana had chosen as her victim.

"Merlin, you idiot!" He jumped at the prince's shout, and Morgana's spell snapped back into the metal, activating. Oh bloody– "Explain this!" Merlin didn't turn. The water inside the metal pitcher began to froth, quickly rising to a boil. "MERLIN!"

"What!?" He whirled, only to wince at his own tone. That was just asking for a one way ticket to the stocks. "Um… yes, sire?" He tried again, pressing his back to the dresser to hide the pitcher from sight, trying to ignore the way it was starting to hiss ominously.

Arthur, none the wiser to the peril, pointed at his breakfast plate. "What is this?"

Merlin only spared it the briefest of glances. "Your breakfast."

Oh, if looks could kill, Morgana would be a happy, happy person. "And why exactly does it look like you've run it over with a horse?"

"Uh…" Because Morgana had developed an alarming love for poisons, and Merlin had been a little panicked as he'd checked Arthur's breakfast that morning. He was still trying to figure out the safest disposal method for the contaminated pieces hidden in his pockets. He swallowed, glancing back at Arthur. "I tripped?" Behind him the hissing began to change into an ominous whistle.

Arthur gave the plate a disgusted look, shoving it away. "And you expect me to eat _this_!? Take it back, and try again." He got up from the table, turning away from his manservant.

Merlin didn't think twice. He dropped Arthur's laundry, and grabbed the cursed pitcher. It shuddered in his hands as he bolted for the door, tripping over one of Arthur's stray shirts. He stumbled, biting back a yelp as he accidently sloshed a small amount of the liquid over his hand, but his didn't stop. He raced out into the corridor, shouting over his shoulder, "Right away, sire!" before the prince could even draw breath to yell at him again.

Merlin tore down several more passageways, gritting his teeth as his hand began to burn in earnest. Whipping around a corner, he ducked into an empty alcove, cursing colourfully under his breath. He dropped the pitcher, nearly missing the small delicate table he'd been aiming for, but his hand couldn't take it anymore. Swearing again, he shook his hand out, hissing as it continued to sting.

What had she done to it?

Nervously he eyed the cursed object. The whole pitcher was vibrating now, and wailing like one of Gaius's kettles. Dammit it all. Glancing worriedly back at the main hallway, Merlin knew he had to shut the thing up before someone came to investigate.

Gaius was going to kill him if he ever found out about this.

Reaching out with his burnt hand, Merlin once more pulled at the enchantment placed upon the pitcher. The metal rattled, spilling the hissing liquid down its sides. The whole pitcher looked ready to shake itself apart. It took more coaxing this time to get the spell to lift away from the metal, revealing itself as a visible green glow, like a mist, hovering around the container.

Merlin's breath caught. Morgana had gone all out this time with her magic. This had to be the hardest enchantment she'd cast yet. Her skill was improving by leaps and bounds.

A cold feeling settled over Merlin. Things… couldn't go on like this. They wouldn't. Something was going to give, and Merlin feared it wouldn't be in his favour.

Too tired to use any finesse, he tore away the enchantment, crushing it with his own magic. The pitcher reacted violently, crumpling in on itself like it was made of parchment, trapping the liquid inside. With a final wheezing hiss the whole thing went silent. Merlin sighed, closing his eyes. Today, he realized with misery, was going to be a _long_ day.

He yanked his neckerchief off, wrapping it around his injured hand, and with a bit of difficulty he managed to tie it in place. He would have to remember to get Gaius to look at it later. Picking up the trashed pitcher gingerly, Merlin turned back to the hallway with a sigh. Now he had another thing he needed to dispose of carefully. Great.

A warlock's work was never done it seemed.

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Breezing back into Arthur's room without knocking, Merlin brandished the new plate of food before him, a cheeky quip on his lips– and froze when he saw who was sitting with Arthur at his small table. Morgana smiled sweetly back at him, her expression daring him to say anything. Merlin snapped his mouth shut.

Morgana's gaze shifted, locking onto the cloth wrapped around his hand. "Arthur," she said in an admonishing voice, "what are you doing to your poor servant?"

Arthur abruptly turned in his chair, leaving his back entirely exposed to Morgana as he faced Merlin. The witch's eyes sparkled dangerously. Merlin tensed, hand tightening around the platter he was holding. He'd throw it at her if he had to.

Arthur's brow furrowed. "What happened to your hand?"

Behind the prince's back, Morgana's expression turned to vicious glee, no doubt, recognizing the work of her cursed pitcher. "You know me," Merlin tried to say lightly, not taking his eyes off Morgana for a second. "Clumsiness and kitchens don't really mix nicely."

A look past over Arthur's face, one Merlin wasn't really sure how to read. He was, however, far too familiar with the prince's next expression: prattish face number two.

Yup, it was going to be a super long day.

"Really _Mer_ lin, you should be more careful." Arthur turned back to the table, and to Morgana, who had schooled her expression to an appropriate look of concern again.

Merlin suppressed a grimace. Why was she even here? He stepped forward, setting the new platter of food down in front of Arthur, before moving back the bare minimum distance he could get away with. Normally he would have gone about cleaning the room again, but there was absolutely no way he was leaving the two of them sitting there alone.

Morgana, content now to ignore him, gracefully rose to her feet. "Will you think about what I said, Arthur?" She acted nervous, wringing her hands together, and setting off all sorts of alarm bells in Merlin's head.

Arthur, for his part, was completely taken in by the act. "You have my word, Morgana."

She tried to smile, the expression faulting and watery. Merlin would have believed it too, had, in fact, once. That felt so long ago now. Sometimes he wondered how things had changed so much, but then he remembered his own hand in it. The guilt still ate at him.

Gracefully Morgana walked to the door. Merlin followed her, making sure she didn't decide to curse anything else on the way out, but her hands remained at her sides. She didn't even spare him a glance, simply exiting, her purpose served, whatever it had been. Dread began to bubble up inside Merlin, even as he watched her walk away.

Once her steps had faded, Merlin rounded on Arthur. "What did she want?" He tried to keep the edge out his voice, restraining the urge to check the whole room again.

Arthur glowered at him. "Really _Mer_ lin, that's none of your business."

"Of course not," Merlin said with sarcasm. "Because Morgana _always_ visits you first thing in the morning over breakfast."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Oh. And you feel entitled to know, now?" The prince's expression darkened. "Keep your nose out. That's an order." He returned to his breakfast, a clear dismissal.

Sullenly Merlin went back to cleaning up the room. Whatever was going on, it was troubling enough to leave Arthur in deep thought. He wondered if he should pity the prince's poor brain. All that work.

Merlin grimaced. Even in his head his jokes were falling flat. He shot another glance at Arthur. There was no way he could push any further though. He had a nice long record of avoiding to the stocks (despite a few close calls), and he didn't particularly feel like breaking that streak. Grabbing up the dirty clothes he'd dropped earlier he started putting together a basket of things that needed washing.

Arthur didn't even seem to notice the unnatural silence that hung over the room as Merlin continued to work. Which left the warlock to stew in his own thoughts as he helped Arthur get ready for the day. The silence was only broken once, briefly, when Arthur gave out the long list of chores Merlin was to do, saying he would be off dealing with other matters. The prince left soon after, leaving Merlin to his own devices.

Alone, Merlin took the chance to inspect the rest of the room, making sure Morgana hadn't left any further surprises. It took a full hour before Merlin was satisfied the room was clear, which was good because a quiet and urgent knock came not even a second later at the door. He looked up, surprised, about to call out that Arthur wasn't in, when the door opened and Gwen slipped hastily inside, shutting the door just as quickly behind her.

Merlin immediately sprang to his feet, quickly striding toward her. "Gwen? What is it?"

She hurried to meet him, if anything, her own steps quicker. "Morgana's planning something."

The dread he'd been feeling since Morgana's visit increased tenfold. "She was here earlier, talking to Arthur. Gwen, do you know what she's up to?"

Gwen shook her head. "No." She began ringing her hands together. "We have to tell Arthur."

"Tell him what?" Merlin was trying not to panic. "We don't even know what she's doing!"

"But if we don't tell him something before he leaves–"

"What!?"

Gwen was taken aback. "Arthur's assembling a squad of knights down in the courtyard–"

Merlin took off running. Out the door and down the passage, going as fast as his legs would carry him. He weaved around knights, dodging servants as he made a mad dash for the stairs. He stumbled down the steps without an ounce of grace, nearly falling flat on his face at the bottom. Then it was down the hall, before he burst out into the courtyard.

"Arthur!" He rocketed across the flagstones, drawing the prince attention as he came to a screeching halt beside him. For a moment, Merlin was bent double, trying to catch his breath. The horse at Arthur's side snorted reproachfully. Finally, when he had enough air, Merlin pushed himself up to face the prince. "What do you think are you doing, Arthur?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Arthur patted his horse, double-checking the buckles on the saddle.

"Arthur–"

"No Merlin, you're not coming."

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"

"Because _I_ said so." The prince finally met his gaze, seeing Merlin's sour expression. "Don't give me that look. If you must know, we're only be gone a few hours."

Merlin's eyes darted to the knights starting to gather. "Right. _Hours_." From the gear the group was packing, it was clear they were going to be gone for several days. Merlin nodded his head sagely. "That's exactly what it looks like."

Arthur gave him a look of annoyance. "Really Merlin, I mean it. You can't come."

"Why not?"

The prince made a sound of exasperation. "Because you already look dead on your feet."

Merlin blinked. Sleep deprived certainly, but he didn't look that bad did he? Wait, wasn't he supposed to retaliate with some kind of witty retort?

Arthur frowned at him.

Darn. Too late.

"You see?" Arthur crossed his arms. "It'll be hard enough watching my own back, I can't look after yours as well, not out there."

"Out where?"

Arthur gave him a very pointed look that said _butt out._

Like most of the prince's orders, Merlin ignored it. "If it's that dangerous, that's all the more reason I need to come. Someone needs to keep you safe."

Arthur gave a bark of laughter. "And you think that someone is you?"

Merlin glared. "Yes."

"Merlin, I'm not taking you to chase after Morgana's kidnappers."

Merlin went very still. "Is that what Morgana came to talk to you about earlier?"

"Merlin–"

"No Arthur, listen to me–" Sadly, the rest of the words died on Merlin's lips, as he caught sight of Morgana. She was coming down the stairs from the main door of the castle, her green dress rippling around her in the wind as she slowly came toward them.

Merlin gritted his teeth, turning desperately back to the prince. "Arthur, you can't go."

"I don't need your permission, Merlin."

For a brief moment he felt a flash of anger. Arthur _never_ listened to him when he tried to warn the prince. "Arthur, it's a trap."

"Merlin–"

"Arthur," Morgana called as she came up beside Merlin, who stubbornly held his ground, despite that as a servant he was supposed to make space for her. Well, tough. She'd have to try harder than that.

Morgana turned toward the secret warlock. "Could you give us a moment, please?" Her earnestness seemed so real, that Merlin was alarmed he couldn't see through her deceit.

Then Arthur took matters out of his hands. "Go Merlin."

Merlin still tried to protest.

"I mean it. Go do– whatever it is you do when you're not serving me." Arthur waved his hand dismissing him.

Merlin scowled, affronted. At this rate he might just kill Arthur himself, forget Morgana. Huffing out a breath, he nodded his head once. "Sire." Slowly he stepped away, but Arthur continued to stare at him, making sure he went back into the castle.

Merlin went, ascending the stairs one slow step at a time. He needed a plan. No way was Arthur going out there by himself with only a hand full of knights for protection. Merlin thought about just grabbing a horse and following after the prince, but his tracking skills were lousy. If he didn't get lost, Arthur was more then likely to catch him, and Merlin did not want to imagine what the prince would do to him then.

It was as a knight pushed past him to join the group still gathering in the courtyard that Merlin got one of the stupidest ideas he'd ever had. Made worse, no doubt, because he actually decided to act on it too, but, hey, he was desperate. Besides, it wasn't like Arthur knew his spare armour on sight, right?

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Arthur surveyed his group of knights, scowling at a straggler who was rushing to get his horse ready. Honestly, this was embarrassing. If this was Camelot's finest, than he'd eat Merlin's neckerchief.

This mission was already going to be difficult enough as it was. His father had ordered him to bring back at least one prisoner alive. The rest, were, by the King's words, to find death in the slowest manner possible. Arthur tried to ignore the way his stomach churned. At least he'd spared Merlin. Idiot or not, this wasn't something the servant should be part of. He just hoped the idiot was smart enough to catch up on the rest he clearly needed.

"Arthur?" He blinked, glancing back to find Morgana frowning at him. "Did you hear a word I said?"

"Of course," he lied, smothering his embarrassment. Merlin would have seen right through him, but apparently Morgana didn't.

She nodded, arms wrapped tightly around herself. "Just make sure you kill that _thing_." She spat the word. "I don't think…" and here she hesitated, "it wasn't _natural_ , Arthur."

And by that she meant magical. Her kidnappers had apparently acquired a _magical_ beast of some sort. Arthur grimaced. "Do you know what it was? How big a creature?"

"I told you I never saw it," she snapped, only to bit her lip. "But the sounds it made…" She shivered. "Only a monster could sound like that."

Arthur nodded, not daring to press further.

She offered a weak smile. "Good luck, Arthur. Be sure to show them what they deserve."

Arthur tried to ignore the shudder that tried to work its way down his back. These men had held her captive for a full year, he should not except any mercy from Morgana in this. But the light in her eyes… it unsettled him.

He nodded once, using the excuse of needing to finish preparations to escape their conversation. Morgana let him go, moving gracefully out of the way of the knights still trying to get organized. Really, they should have been done by now. Gods, they were slower then Merlin.

Arthur glanced back toward the castle. Merlin was no where in sight, likely sulking, the ungrateful idiot. Arthur's eyes drifted back to Morgana who had moved to stand at the top of the steps, seeing the knights off, but her last words still chilled him.

This mission was going to test them, perhaps in more ways than one.

He waited another five minutes to make sure even his straggling knights were ready, before finally giving the call to move out. They all mounted up, and then they off, quickly leaving Camelot behind.

The day was sunny, a promise of good weather. Not a cloud in the deep blue sky. A good day for travel, and a better one for riding. They made good time, stopping briefly on the side of the road for lunch, before Arthur set them off again, continuing their journey until the dwindling light of day finally forced him to call a halt for the night.

As the knights busied themselves setting up camp, Arthur took his time to examine the crude map Morgana had drawn of their destination. If he was reading it right, the enemies' camp was still another good day's ride away.

Arthur sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He wished Morgana had known more about this powerful magical creature the enemy kept. Knowledge of its nature would have gone far in making a decision in how to engage it.

Not that this would be the first time he'd gone up against a monster blind. He just hoped this wasn't going to turn into a repeat of the incident with the questing beast. He shivered. All he knew about this creature was that it– whatever it was– was magical.

Arthur sighed, glancing up at the camp being assembled around him, only to scowl at a knight who was sitting awkwardly beside an empty ring of stones where the fire was going to go. "You," snapped Arthur, making the knight jump. The bucket like helmet swiveled toward him, and even though the prince couldn't see the other's face, he could tell he'd intimidated him. Good. "Go collect some firewood."

With a sharp nod, the knight dashed clumsily off, making Arthur shake his head. The quality of knights really was going down, not that he was surprised. Between Cenred's siege on Camelot, and the dragon's attack of last year, they were still hurting for well trained and experienced knights.

Arthur surveyed the men around him with a critical eye. There was nothing he could do about it though, these men were all he had. Drawing another deep breath, Arthur went about preparing for the evening. A fire was started, and not long after dinner was ready. The group ate together in silence, the knights not at all lively, perhaps because they weren't quite sure how to act with the prince in their midst. Arthur would never admit it in a million years, but he was starting to miss Merlin's incessant prattle.

Things were just… too normal without him, and didn't that sound terrible.

They ended up splitting up guard duty for the night, and Arthur scowled when that bucket headed knight took the shift he'd been about to lay claim to. But he was a prince and it was beneath him to make a scene. So as it was, Arthur got a full night of rest, and though still grumpy in the morning, there was once more, no Merlin to whom he could throw things at as a way to vent. He was surrounded by knights, after all, and was expected to act accordingly.

Arthur's face fell a little more, only to be startled when a bowl of stew was suddenly shoved under his nose. He scowled up at the bucket headed knight who was holding the bowl out to him. The prince took the stew, muttering something that should have been a thank you, before focusing on the fire once more. The knight moved off, helping the rest pack up camp and getting ready to leave. Arthur finished his breakfast quickly, and then they were off.

The day's ride was disturbingly peaceful. Nothing jumped out to stop them, not even a bandit attack, almost like something _wanted_ them to get to Morgana's kidnappers safely, but that was preposterous… right?

It took the whole day to arrive at their destination. Just as evening was setting in, they left the horses back at a clearing, and approached the ruins that Morgana's kidnappers were using as a base. Arthur silently ordered his group of thirteen knights to fan out. He'd already given them strict warnings not to face the monster alone.

With a round of grim nods, they fanned out to surround the ruins. Using the forest for cover, Arthur circled west around the perimeter, searching for a good point of entry. There were no guards posted at the crumbling walls, and from inside, firelight could be seen reflecting off the crumbling stonework, accompanied by the sound of drunken laughter.

Staying low, Arthur began to approach a wall that had fallen away to nothing, only to find that he was being followed. He whirled, sword drawn, only to come face to face with one of his own men. The bucket headed knight stumbled back, hands frantically raised in a peaceful gesture.

Arthur growled, grabbing a fist full of the knight's chainmail with his free hand. "I told you to fan out," he hissed, but there was nothing for it now. He shoved the knight away from him. "Never mind. Come on." He turned to head down the ruined passageway, choosing the direction leading away from the firelight. After a slight pause, the knight followed after him on silent feet. "At least draw your sword."

The bucket head faltered, as though just then remembering about his weapon. He stared at the sheath at his side, before he processed to draw the blade with great haste. Arthur winced at the sound, hoping the enemy was too drunk to hear it. Gritting his teeth, Arthur motioned the knight to follow and off they went again, creeping down the hallway.

It seemed though, that luck was on their side. The hallway he had chosen lead out into a room with a caved in ceiling. In the fading twilight, Arthur could make out a large metal cage on wheels, surrounded by massive chains, all the things that were needed to contain a large beast.

Arthur smiled grimly. They were getting close. The magical monster had to be here somewhere. He stepped out into the room, eyes peeled for any movement. He'd only gone two steps when a string of shouts went up, followed by the unmistakable sound of battle.

Arthur whirled. His knights! Even the bucket headed knight had turned toward the sound. Arthur opened his mouth to give orders, stepping back toward the passageway, when it happened. His foot pressed into the soft soil, dipping deeper then it should have, and with a buzz of energy the earth exploded up around him.

Arthur wasn't really sure what happened next. It felt like something beyond the earth had caught him. Something alive. It enveloped his whole body, chilling him like ice. He could feel it passing through him, tearing at his insides, like it wanted to devour everything that made him who he was.

He cried out, and someone shouted his name in answer, but that couldn't be right, because it sounded like…

"Mer..lin…" he barely managed to utter the name, before he was lost once more.

"Arthur!" Merlin's voice cried again, but he wasn't here. He wasn't–

A real and warm body crashed into him, trying to knock him away from whatever had him trapped. But the power that had him, simply flared and his rescuer was thrown away, tumbling into the grass. The energy squeezed Arthur, and his lungs ached. He was drowning.

And then the person was there again, warm hands pressing against the sides of his face. The power twisted around them both like a northern wind, clawing at their skin, and the warm hands– they weren't enough. He felt cold, like his whole body was made of ice.

"Arthur! Arthur, you've got to hold on!" The warm hands tightened, and the voice began to utter words his ears couldn't make sense of. The cold beneath his skin shuddered, and for a second almost broke. Arthur's eyes fluttered open. The bucket headed knight was before him. But how could that…?

His eyes wandered to the warping air around them. It was glowing with a poisonous light. Was that… magic? The knight was glowing too… a faint aura of gold surrounding him.

Magic…

Arthur's eyes slid shut. The ice was in his veins now, moving with every beat of his heart. It was his blood and soon would be his whole being. His body shook, fingers curling, becoming something more.

"NO!" The warm hands moved, but instead of trying to break the cold he had become, they reached, wrapping around it, coaxing, scooping up as much of the ice as they could and drawing it away.

Abruptly Arthur fell back, crashing onto the ground. He gasped where he lay, feeling the warm air around him as the world continued to tremble. The very earth hummed with a power, growing to a horrifying roar. He flinched, curling away from the sound, the power, and then it exploded. A wave washed past before everything went silent save for a pitiful cry. A body crashed to the ground beside him, a presence of chilled warmth. "Mer…lin…" He reached blindly, but he couldn't see.

Everything was fading away.

"Ar..th…" a choked voice answered.

Darkness overcame him and he knew no more.

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And there you have it, chapter one of what will be a six part story. I started writing this when I was watching season three for the first time, and was like, hey, these characters look really fun and interesting to write. What if Morgana gave Merlin and Gwen a real run for their money in trying to keep Arthur safe? And thus the first spark for this story came to me.

Next time: Merlin finds out what he and Arthur have gotten themselves into. Look forward to Chapter 2: A Curse on Jan 22.

I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading! Critical critiques are more than welcome.


	2. A Curse

**Chapter 2: A Curse**

Merlin groaned. His whole body ached. Ow. What–?

A rattle of chains made him flinch, and his whole body flared with pain in answer. Gah! He gasped, curling into himself as he gritted his teeth. What in the name of magic hit him?

"Merlin?"

He moaned. If it hurt this much to breathe, he didn't want to answer.

"Merlin." A feather light hand touched his shoulder, but it still felt more like being stomped on by Kilgharrah.

A cry escaped his lips, and the hand immediately jerked away. He clenched his teeth, drawing in a harsh breath. It took everything he had to hold still. His limbs ached, chest throbbing, practically on fire.

"Merlin?" the voice spoke again. "Merlin can you hear me?"

He drew another shuddering breath, going limp against the ground. Despite how the rest of him felt, his head was clear enough, which meant he wasn't wrong when he thought that voice belonged to… "Arthur?" He winced as his own voice echoed back loudly in his ears. "Wha…?"

"Hold on a moment." There was another rattle of chains, and Merlin instinctively tensed. What was going on? He felt careful hands grip something around his head, and with a gentle tug, whatever it was, came free and a rush of fresh smelling air touched his face.

"How are you feeling?" Arthur asked quietly.

For the first time Merlin chanced opening his eyes. Arthur was leaning over him, a bucket like helmet in his hands. Oh, was all Merlin could think. No wonder his voice had been all _echoey_.

He blinked slowly, eyes wondering past Arthur. They were in an iron cage, surrounded by the inner walls of a ruined castle, and beyond, high above, he could see the afternoon sky. Huh, how had they managed to end up here? He almost asked, but then his memories click back into place.

He groaned, almost wishing they hadn't. He pressed a hand to his face. This was, by far, his worst plan ever! What was he thinking disguising himself as a knight? Now he was stuck along with Arthur, in Morgana's trap.

This was beyond idiotic.

"Merlin?"

He tried to wave the prince off. "I'm fine. Just… not how I expected things to go…" He trailed off, grimacing at his own understatement.

He'd underestimated them. Morgana and Morgause had thought very carefully about their trap. The other knights were likely dead, and Arthur was probably lucky not to be as well. The warlock shivered. He'd _never_ seen anything like that before. The second Arthur had stepped into the witches' trap, an incredibly powerful spell had been unleashed.

The very air had been alive with magic, wrapping and coiling around him. It had taken _everything_ Merlin had to get close. Exhausted and clinging to Arthur, it had been his sheer force of will that saw his magic pry the spell off the prince. After that, with no power left, Merlin had collapsed beside Arthur and passed out.

A shiver ran through Merlin's frame, and he wrapped his arms protectively across his chest. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt awful. Was this the price for using so much magic last night?

Merlin snorted. He'd gladly do it again to keep Arthur safe, even if… He bit his lip, but the ugly thought had already formed. What if next time he wasn't powerful enough to save Arthur? What then?

He glanced at the prince, only to realize Arthur was talking to him. "…out of here." Merlin tried to look like he'd been listening. "Hopefully some of the knights managed to escape. The situation isn't hopeless." The prince offered him a tight smile, and it was then that the warlock realized Arthur was trying to comfort him.

He opened his mouth, hesitating ever so slightly. "You've got a plan then?"

"Of course I do, _Mer_ lin," Arthur answered airily.

"Good. I'm about ready to get out of here."

He tried to ignore the way Arthur grimaced. "One thing at a time. Can you sit up?"

Merlin bit back his own uncertainty. Could he? Slowly he pulled his arms away from his chest, and carefully pressed them against the rough wooden floor of their cage. Drawing a breath, Merlin levered himself up, wincing as his whole body sparked and ached with pain. His arms shook under the strain, until finally they buckled and he fell gracelessly against the bars of their prison. He sat there for a long moment, trying to catch his breath.

Beside him, Arthur silently knelt. Worry creased the prince's brow as his right hand rose, hovering hesitantly in the air as though he wasn't quite sure how to help.

"I'm alright," Merlin said, and abruptly Arthur's hand snapped away. Merlin smiled tightly. Arthur could act the uncaring prince all he liked, but Merlin knew how much of a big old fluffy mother-hen the prat could be. "Really, I'm fine."

Arthur looked skeptical. "Are you injured?"

Merlin gave a weak laugh. His hand had snaked back to his chest again. "You know me," he said, not bothering to move his arm. "The one time I do wear armour I feel like I've been trampled by your horse." Arthur's brow creased more. Merlin gave him a small reassuring smile. "I'm alright, just… achy."

The worry only grew in the prince's eyes, and suddenly Merlin became aware of the way Arthur was favouring his own body. The smile vanished entirely from the warlock's face. "You're hurt."

The prince scoffed. "Certainly not. You think something little like– like that could take me down?" Arthur tried to straighten himself further, only to wince as he taxed muscles protested.

"I can see that," Merlin answered sarcastically. Boy, were they a pair.

A silence fell between them. Sunlight poured down from the beautiful blue sky, and in the forest beyond the walls, Merlin could hear a few songbirds. It was… Merlin frowned, staring up at the crumbling walls around them. He hadn't realized how very still and quiet it was in the ruins until that moment. Where _were_ their captors?

"Merlin?" Arthur suddenly spoke up, his voice subdued. "What _was_ that… that… thing? From last night."

The secret warlock opened his mouth, only to hesitate. His fingers curled into the borrowed chainmail shirt he was wearing. How should he answer? With the truth?

" _Well, Arthur, that's an excellent question, but a bit complicated to answer. You see, Morgana, who's your half-sister, by the way, is trying to kill you. Why you ask? Cause she wants to take the throne of Camelot for her own, of course. Oh, and me, I've been foiling her for the last couple months, which is why it was a really– really bad idea not to take me along on this quest. Good thing I didn't listen, right? Right. Otherwise that spell you accidently tripped off would have gotten you, and who knows where we would be then. Oh yeah, surprise! I'm a warlock. Now, if you would ever so kindly not behead me, we can try and figure out what exactly Morgana's planning. You see, she's made a hobby of trying to kill you, and that spell I pried off you, using my super powerful magic, I'm starting to suspect wasn't trying to do that. Kill you, that is. Which I, for one, find very worrying. So, why don't I just break us out of here and we head back to Camelot and get this sorted out? Confused yet? Good. Me too."_

Merlin grimaced. There was no way he could say that, but with the way Arthur was looking at him, Merlin knew he had to say something. "What do you remember from last night?"

Arthur frowned thoughtfully. "That was… magic, wasn't it?"

Cautiously Merlin nodded his head, which only made Arthur look even more lost then before. So after carefully mulling over his words, Merlin slowly spoke. "I think… you set off some sort of trap."

Arthur's brow furrowed. "Is that what it was? It… made you glow."

Merlin's heart stopped. "Oh." His hands began to shake. Oh gods, Arthur had seen his magic. He tried to swallow. "You know, it was just– There was a lot of magic in the air. There. Last night. Right?" His grin felt forced.

Arthur gave him a strange look.

"Making stuff glow?" If his mouth stretched any wider his face was going to stick.

Arthur's expression became down right mutinous. "Are you implying, _Mer_ lin, that I glowed?"

Merlin opened his mouth, only for another memory to surface from the night. "Yes," he said abruptly. Arthur stared. "A nice Camelot red actually." Merlin wondered if he should just shut up now. With the way this was going he might as well kiss his lovely head goodbye.

Arthur was silent for a very long moment, before he abruptly raised his hand, pointing at Merlin threateningly. "Never mention this to anyone. _Ever_."

Merlin nodded quickly, maybe one too many times, because Arthur was _still_ staring, and maybe that was why the next words flew out of his mouth. "Afraid red isn't your colour, Sire?"

" _Mer_ lin."

"Shutting up." He fell silent.

Arthur huffed, finally turning away, and began examining the cage. A hush fell over their prison. Merlin stared out at the crumbling walls around them, trying to ignore his unease. Everything was too quiet. Why weren't their captors here gloating in their faces?

The entrance he and Arthur had first come through was on the far end of the room, and now that he looked, he noticed the giant collection of chains had been moved into piles right beside it. The secret warlock adverted his gaze, a bad taste in his mouth and dread forming in his stomach. They still didn't know anything about the magical creature that was here.

"Merlin, where exactly was the trap set up?"

The warlock hummed softly. "Right over there." He pointed to the spot. "It was in front of the way we came in."

"I see." Arthur leaned forward to get a better look, which by itself wasn't odd, except that a chain clinked and rattled in time with his movements.

Merlin's head whipped around, gaze landing on a large manacle locked tightly around Arthur's left wrist and arm. How in the bloody name of magic had he missed that? Arthur's chainmail was gone, and the sleeve of his shirt had been yanked up, allowing the manacle to rub the prince's skin a raw looking red. Rage flared up inside Merlin. How dare those–

"Dammit!" The prince kicked at the bars. "They knew we were coming!"

And just like that Merlin came back to himself, temper fizzling out. The warlock drew a sharp breath. What was _that_? His hand tightened once more over his chest. His limbs suddenly felt shaky. It wasn't like him to feel a wild spike of rage like that. Gods, he could have done something incredibly stupid like level the cage.

"Merlin?" He jumped, realizing Arthur was looking at him.

Merlin opened his mouth, only to find his voice had apparently decided to abandon him. He stared at the prince, looking like a deer caught in a snare. Arthur reached out toward him, chains rattling, and Merlin flinched. Gods. It was stupid. It was so stupid. He wasn't scared of a bloody chain. But his secret had come so close to being discovered, and if Arthur had found out, those chains– they'd be around his limbs, tying him down, restraining him while everyone screamed and condemned him for simply being what he was, and– Right now, it was too much.

Merlin pressed his hands against his eyes. He needed to calm down. If he didn't, who knew what his magic might do. Even in a depleted state it was still dangerous, which was why he needed to stay calm, and not worry, and take comfort in the fact Arthur wasn't going to find out, and that he wasn't going to use the metal chain to strangle his lying treacherous– Good gods, he was going to blow something up.

Beside him, Arthur had gone perfectly still. "Merlin?" He paused, hesitating. "I didn't mean to– I'm sorry."

Merlin shook his head a little too wildly. What did Arthur have to apologize for? The prat hadn't even done anything. But the cage was feeling smaller and smaller and Merlin needed out. "Can," he forced the words out, eyes squeezed shut. "Can we escape now?"

The prince rose, stepping away from Merlin. "I'll look into it." He grabbed one the bars of their cage, yanking on it as hard as he could. "It's not going to be easy though."

The warlock remained where he sat, tension building in every muscle. "Why not?" His eyes flickered nervously to their cell door, maybe he could pretend to pick the lock. "What about that? Have you tried that yet?"

Arthur looked at him with worry, but answered his question anyway. "I can't reach it."

Unwillingly Merlin's eyes darted to the heavy chain connecting Arthur to their prison. Suddenly his throat felt tight with an ugly emotion he did not want to name. He needed a distraction now. "Right. I'll work on that. You– you something." He went to rise, but Arthur caught his shoulder, forcing him to stay down.

"Merlin." The warlock hesitated, slowly looking up to meet the prince's gaze. "Listen, I know our–"Arthur stopped mid word, head snapping around.

Merlin tensed as Arthur flashed several hand signs at him, none of which he knew the meaning to, but Arthur's focus wasn't on him or their prison anymore. He turned toward the passageway at the far end of the room, ready and tense.

Merlin followed his gaze, listening, hands flexing, crackling almost with nervous power. Then he saw them. Two men appeared at the entrance to the room, and as Arthur waited for them to get closer, Merlin struggled up, leaning against the cage for support. His legs shook, but he was determined to guard the prince's back. His whole body buzzed, ready for a fight, and almost reluctantly Merlin shut his eyes, drawing a deep breath. He couldn't be stupid about this, even if he wanted to see their captors shredded into tiny little pieces.

He swallowed hard, trying to push that unnerving thought away.

Arthur let out a hiss and Merlin's eyes flew open. "Mercenaries."

The two scrappy men skirted the spot the spell trap had been, and moved toward the cage. Merlin's blood thrummed in his veins, as he silently watched them come to a stop right before their prison. They didn't spare him a look, eyes focused solely on Arthur. The prince stared right back at them, not breaking the heavy silence.

Finally the beefier of the two mercenaries leaned toward his companion. "I don't think it took."

Merlin tensed.

"She said it might take time," replied the other. Merlin's eyes snapped to the wiry framed man who had spoken, heart pounding. There was only one _she_ that Merlin could think of that they'd refer to. "It can't be much longer now. His little friend will let us know when it happens." The man's eyes skirted briefly toward Merlin, and something in his look made the warlock go cold. They weren't planning to keep him alive.

Arthur must have seen the look too, because he abruptly took a half step toward the bars. "Sorry to disappoint, but your little magic trap failed."

The confidence in the wiry mercenary's expression vanished. Merlin, for his part, tried to keep his own expression blank. His arms hung loosely at his sides, hands half curled, poised and ready.

"See," hissed the beefy one to his companion. "Told you it didn't work."

The wiry mercenary ignored the comment. "That's too bad," he said to Arthur. "You're not worth much then, Your Highness."

The prince frowned, hiding his confusion. He eyed the two men on the other side of the bars. "You know very well who I am. Who my father is. If that's not worth something, then you really are fools."

The wiry man grimaced. "Aye, and we know what your father does to men like us."

Merlin's expression hardened. "Then let us go," he ordered, a real warning and threat in his voice.

But the mercenaries only laughed, and even Arthur scowled at him. "Shut up, Sir Merlin."

What? He stared at Arthur like he'd gone mad. _Sir_ Merlin? The prince gave a very pointed look at his chest, and while he ignored Arthur's silently screamed message of _Keep your mouth shut_ , it did give Merlin the hint he was looking for. How had he forgotten? He was still wearing Arthur's spare chainmail shirt. The idiots that had captured them, for whatever reason, had decided to steal Arthur's but left his. Their loss. Even if he did feel a little ridiculous now, posing as a knight.

Slowly the burly mercenary nodded to the other. Merlin's eyes narrowed. What were they up to now? He certainty didn't like the way they were looking at Arthur.

Arthur crossed his arms. "You're going to be in a lot of trouble for capturing us, and for what?" He shook his head mockingly. "A shoddy spell that your incompetent sorcerer couldn't even get right?"

The mercenaries glanced nervously at each other. The witch sisters had left an impression then. But Arthur didn't know who he'd just insulted.

After a moment, the wiry man regarded Arthur intently. "You've got guts princey. I can see why they want you dead so badly."

Arthur glared darkly at the two men. "They?"

The mercenary smirked. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" He beckoned Arthur closer with a hand, the promise of revealing the witch sisters' secret on his face. The prince regarded the mercenary, weighing his options, before slowly he stepped up to the bars, closing the last distance between himself and the mercenaries.

"Arthur," hissed Merlin. What was the prat thinking!?

Arthur looked back at him, a snarky reprimand on his lips, but really, he should have kept his eyes on their captors. Quick as a flash, the wiry mercenary's hand was through the bars, reaching for the prince. Merlin shouted a warning, but it was too late. With a fist full of Arthur's shirt, the mercenary rammed the prince's head into the metal bars. Once. Twice.

"STOP!" roared Merlin, lunging forward. His hand snapped out, fingers more like claws, crushing the mercenary's wrist. The man cried out, releasing Arthur, who crumpled silently to the floor.

Snarling, Merlin stepped protectively in front of him, baring his teeth. How dare they! How dare they hurt Arthur! He raised his no longer human hand and roared.

The mercenaries stared in horror as Merlin's form began to shift, growing in size. His bones cracked, and his body changed. The chainmail shirt he wore burst, as enormous black wings arched from his back. Rough dark scales covered his skin as his mouth stretched, making room for razor sharp teeth. But it was his eyes that scared the mercenaries most. Between one blink and the next they turned to a burning gold, the pupils thinning to dangerous slits. As the change finished, those eyes remained focused solely on the two men.

"Oh gods," breathed the beefy mercenary, but that was all he had the time to say. For the next moment the cage exploded outward in flames and twisted metal as they faced down the full wrath of what they had helped create: a furious fire breathing dragon.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Merlin came back to himself, it was to the burning ruin of the mercenaries' camp. He stared at it without comprehension, blue eyes absently surveying the wreckage. Smoke billowed up into the air, caught in a gentle wind that made the grass tickle his face. He curled his fingers in the soft green blades, staring at his pale hand. For some reason, the sight transfixed him, but he couldn't remember why. He drew a deep breath, grimacing at the stench of burning wreckage.

All was dead silent around him. There was no one here. No one.

He closed his eyes, trying to process what that meant.

Alone… was he supposed to be alone? If he was alone, then… then…

Where was Arthur?

Merlin's breath caught, and abruptly he sat up. His head swam. He curled his hands into the grass as fear beat in his heart like a drum. He needed to find Arthur. Struggling to his feet, he stumbled almost drunkenly as he called out the prince's name. Where was he? Merlin tripped, going down on his knees, not caring that his clothes hung around him like rags.

"Arthur!" he called again, voice horse. His skin prickled and his eyes burned in the smoke of the burning camp around him. What on earth had happened here? "Arthur!"

He pushed himself up once more, fighting against his shaking limbs. None of this made sense. His head was a murky pool of confused thoughts. How had he even ended up here?

He jumped as a burnt timber popped loudly in the silence. His whole body tensed, making him hiss as _something_ rolled beneath his skin. Spasms ran through his hands, fingers arcing as though they wished to be something else. He shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut and, a moment later, the feeling fled, leaving him just standing there.

Merlin let out a shaky breath, blinking in bewilderment. He stared down at his trembling hands, frowning. He felt like he was missing something. He drew another breath, curling his hands into fists.

He needed to find Arthur.

Slowly he started forward, awkward as a newborn colt. He picked his way out of the camp, following a twisting passage into the ruins. Uncertainty gnawed at his insides as he stumbled along. Had he picked the right direction to go? But the next turn brought a familiar sight to Merlin, the crumbled wall that he and Arthur had first entered the ruin through.

He stared down the passageway, drawing a breath. He was close. He knew it. The warlock took off at a run. He charged into the crumbling room beyond, and promptly tripped as his foot caught on the ground. He crashed to the earth, groaning at his own clumsiness. It was only as he pushed himself up that he realized his left foot was stuck. He turned back, trying to see what had him, only to freeze.

The trap… the one Arthur had set off.

Merlin shook himself, rubbing a dirt stained hand against his forehead. How had he forgotten about that? Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to recall what had happened. His head didn't feel right. There'd been a trap, and Arthur…

Arthur had… oh gods.

Merlin's eyes flew open. Dragon! He'd turned into a bloody dragon! He stared at his trembling hands. "Oh gods." The spell he'd pried off Arthur, it'd been a curse. He hadn't destroyed it. He'd pulled it off Arthur, and when he passed out– The spell had latched onto him instead, turning him into– into–

Merlin clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut as something very close to a sob escaped him. Was this what Morgana had been planning? The curse? Her tale of a magical creature? All a plot to turn Arthur into a raging beast, and– and have _him_ raze Camelot to the ground?

A dangerous growl escaped Merlin's throat, making him jump. He shook his head frantically. He needed to stay calm and think about this rationally. A shaky laugh escaped him. Easier said then done.

His first priority needed to be getting Arthur to safety, but… with the curse coursing through him, going back to Camelot was even more dangerous. Merlin swallowed hard, and for a moment, his thoughts strayed to Freya. Would his life end just like hers? He flexed his fingers, but right now they felt normal, ordinary even. He _couldn't_ feel the curse crawling under his skin, just lying in wait to be unleashed and make him raze everything to ashes. Merlin shuddered.

He needed Gaius's help.

Merlin pushed himself up, pulling his foot free of the trap, and paused. He could see the edge of… something. Carefully he reached out, digging up the rest of the trap and was surprised at what he found.

There was a collection of small polished black stones, each etched with ruins, intricately arranged in a circle. His boot had scattered some of the stones and rubbed out part of a line of white dust that he couldn't even begin to figure out the reason for.

He placed his hand over the stones, but his senses didn't feel locked on them, not like they had with the phoenix eye. However this trap had worked, it was clearly dead now. He ran a finger over the stone's etchings. Gaius would hopefully recognize what they were, because Merlin certainly didn't. He scooped several of the stones up and stuffed them into his one remaining pocket. He just hoped it would be of some help figuring this out.

Finished, he rose to his feet, surveying the area around him. The grass was blackened and scorched, smoke hanging like a heavy fog in the air. Merlin shivered, slowly picking his way across the room. It was difficult to make out anything, and he stumbled, caught by surprise when he finally saw the wheeled cage. The metal bars had been torn open, twisted beyond recognition, while the cage itself was destroyed, listing horribly to the right, and there lying in the centre of it all was Arthur.

Merlin's stomach dropped unpleasantly as he hurried forward to the prince's side. "Arthur," he called, but the prince didn't stir. Slowly Merlin reached out, patting the blond's cheek. "Come on you, up and at 'em." But other than a slight twitch of his brows, Arthur didn't otherwise react.

Merlin bit his lip, pulling away and hugging his arms against his thin tattered shirt. "Did you have to pick now of all times to take a nap?" He scowled only to swallow hard and look away. "Sorry." He scrubbed the shredded end of his sleeve across his eyes, drawing a shaky breath. He was their only chance of getting out of here. So he blocked out the smell of death from his nose, the taste of ashes and smoke on his tongue, and harshly buried all his worries and fears.

There was only one goal now, and that was getting them safely home.

He tore the long dangling strip that had once been his sleeve, and carefully used it as a bandage, wrapping it around the bleeding gash on the prince's forehead. Satisfied with his work, Merlin stepped back. They needed to get moving. "Come on, Arthur." He reached out, tugging the prince by the arms–

There was a thud as a heavy chain hit the side of the wooden cage, making Merlin jump. His head snapped around, only to find the heavy maniacal still present around the prince's wrist. Except now the chain was severed, the last few links dangling free from the cuff.

Merlin's mouth went dry. He'd sheared the chain right off.

Above him the twisted bars seem to loom, like teeth, like hands, trying to drag him back down, and Merlin had to turn away. This wasn't the time, and that maniacal had to go. Drawing a breath, he turned back, setting his hand against the metal lock, opening his mouth to incant a spell, only to stop before the first syllable had even left his mouth.

That feeling of wrongness beat like a drum against his heart.

Every fiber of his being screamed, telling him to leave his magic alone. Slowly he pulled his hand away, curling his fingers into a fist. He drew a deep breath, shutting his eyes, trying to search out the reason.

It wasn't difficult to find.

Merlin flinched. His magic roared within him, practically screaming as it rolled like the high seas in a storm. There was no way he could control that. Abruptly he pulled away, eyes snapping open as he drew a shaky breath. This… this was not good. This was not good stacked on top of _very_ not good. He wouldn't be able to defend them like this. Merlin swallowed hard, staring up into the blue sky.

He still had to try though.

"Come on, Arthur," he said, turning once more to the prince. "The day's not getting any younger." Carefully he gathered the blond up, and stood, finally turning away from everything that had happened, and beginning the long trek that would lead them back home.

 **000000000000000**

And there you have it! Chapter 2 of The Serpent's Curse. This was an interesting chapter to write. I'm surprised how much mileage I got out of Merlin and Arthur being stuck in a cage together. Merlin is quite an entertaining character to write, though on the inverse side, that also required me to go over his fast paced dialogue or thoughts multiple, _multiple_ times with a fine tooth comb to make sure they read smoothly. I think my favourite has to be Merlin's mental speech (the one where he thinks about telling Arthur the complete truth about his magic and that Arthur's half sister is trying to kill him), and I still find it entertaining despite repeat editing, so totally worth it.

I will admit the part where Arthur's head gets bashed against iron bars of the cage is dancing on the very edge of what I'm comfortable for writing for violence, and honestly was only kept because I couldn't think of anything else that would drive Merlin into a berserk dragon rage.

Next Time: Merlin and Arthur make it back to Camelot, and Merlin has to deal with juggling both his curse, and Morgana. Oh dear. Look forward to Chapter 3: A Monster on Feb 5th.

A big thank you to everyone who reviewed. And another big thank you to everyone who read the chapter. I hope you enjoyed!


	3. A Monster

**Chapter 3: A Monster**

Gwen sighed as she crossed the courtyard, clutching a basket of laundry she'd just finished folding. It had been four days since Arthur had ridden out, four days since she'd helped Merlin disguise himself to go with the prince, and four days without word of what had happened.

Morgana was acting far too smug, and Gwen was starting to fear the worst. There was a chance she had just sent her best friend and… Arthur to their deaths. She should never have–

A commotion across the square courtyard drew Gwen's attention. She paused, glancing toward the gate, wondering what was going on. Guards were starting to gather, talking quickly to each other as they pointed at something down the road. Gwen stood on her toes, peering over them to see what was going on. Past the drawbridge, a hunched figure slowly struggled into view, and carried, on their back, was an all too familiar person.

"Arthur!" Gwen broke into a run. She pushed through the guards, pelting down to the path, only to realize who was struggling under the prince's weight. "Merlin!" Her friend stumbled at his name, blinking owlishly as she skittered to a halt beside him. "Are you alright?"

Merlin looked utterly exhausted. He opened his mouth to speak, only to start listing to the side. Gwen dropped her basket of laundry, grabbing hold of Merlin to steady him. "Easy Merlin, easy. What happened?"

"Trap," he whispered, leaning heavily against her.

Her heart jumped. "I'm sorry." She should have done more to stop this.

Merlin shook his head as he offered her a weak and utterly exhausted smile. "We made it back."

A lump formed in her throat, robbing her of her voice. She glanced quickly away, struggling to contain the tears in her eyes. She needed to be strong. Her friends needed her right now. Sucking in a deep breath, she took charge. "How bad is he?"

Merlin glanced back at Arthur, forgetting his shaky balance until Gwen pulled him steady again. "We need to get him to Gaius," said Merlin.

Gwen nodded, squaring her shoulders. "Right." She turned to the still gawking guards. "Don't just stand there," she snapped at them. "Do something!" When that failed to gain a reaction beyond the guards glancing at each other, Gwen scowled. "You," she barked, singling one of them out. "Warn Gaius." He continued to give her a blank look. "The court physician! Prince Arthur is hurt along with his manservant! Tell Gaius to prepare two beds!"

That thankfully seemed to get the idiot moving. The guard snapped to attention, nodding frantically, and took off toward the physician's quarters.

Beside her, Merlin gave his head a tired shake. "Don't worry 'bout me."

"Merlin, you're barely staying on your feet." Gwen gently patted his arm as she turned back to the three remaining guards, and chose another at random. "You, go inform the King." Thankfully, this guard was much smarter, and dashed off right away. "And you two, take the prince and get him to Gaius."

Far more hesitantly, the two remaining guards approached, staring at Merlin like they'd never seen him before. She frowned at their reaction, but her friend, for better or worse, was oblivious to the attention he'd garnered. The guards came around behind them, carefully lifting the prince from Merlin's back. The second they took Arthur's weight, Merlin collapsed against her, much to her concern. Gwen turned toward her friend, only to bite back a gasp.

Merlin's shirt was missing, revealing a small but alarming collection of scars. The one that held Gwen's eyes, though, was a star shaped burst right in the middle of his chest. It reminded her of the burns she'd helped Gaius treat during the dragon's attack a year ago. But she didn't remember Merlin getting injured. Where had they all come from?

With some difficulty she tore her gaze away, looking at the two guards who were still staring. "Get Prince Arthur to Gaius. Hurry!" The two nodded, stealing one more glance at Merlin, before quickly carrying the blond away.

Gwen grimaced. Everyone in the castle was going to hear about Merlin's scars before the day was through. "Merlin, I'm going to help you over to the wall, will you be okay there for a moment?" Her friend assured her that he would, but Gwen still hovered after he was leaning against it. The last thing she wanted was for him to take a nosedive into the ground.

Satisfied, she rushed back over to her spilled basket and grabbed a discarded shirt. Going back over, she carefully wrapped the shirt over Merlin's shoulders, hiding as many of the old injuries as she could. If she could minimize the rumours even just a little, she'd do whatever she could. She paused at a particular strange looking mark right on the small of Merlin's back, and felt cold all over again. It was tiny, but perhaps far more horrifying. It looked like someone had stabbed him with a small blade.

Her throat suddenly felt tight. "Merlin?" He looked up at her, and she opened her mouth, almost asking, but something in his tired gaze stopped her. She swallowed the words back. "Let's get you to Gaius."

She helped him slip his arms through the sleeves of the shirt, before hooking his arm over her shoulder again, and began to lead him on the long walk to the physician's chambers. She tried to focus on keeping Merlin steady, but her friend seemed to have gained a second wind and was managing surprisingly well.

That sadly left her with too much room to dwell on her own dark thoughts. Morgana… she'd known. All of this, it was her doing, which meant…

Gwen squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push away the pain in her heart. She swallowed hard as their footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. "She's trying to kill him, isn't she." It wasn't a question, simply a resigned realization, the last nail in a long dead coffin.

Merlin's shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry."

But Gwen didn't want apologies. She didn't want to sit back and simply react anymore. She was tired of it, sick of all of it. "She needs to be stopped. We have to tell someone, Merlin."

Her friend scoffed, expression pinched. "Who's going to listen to us, Gwen?"

"Arthur will."

To her surprise Merlin tensed against her. "No! Gwen, we just– no."

"Why not?" Why was he being so stubborn about this? "Merlin–"

"Gwen," his voice was pleading, begging her to understand. But all it did was confuse her more. Suddenly she feared there was something more to all of this, something he wasn't telling her.

Cautiously Merlin checked their surroundings. They had to be careful, even now Morgana was still the King's ward. Satisfied no one was near, Merlin turned his focus back to Gwen. "This isn't a problem Arthur can just swing his sword at."

Gwen scowled. "He doesn't need to swing his sword at– at–" She stumbled on the last word, unable to say Morgana's name.

Merlin looked at her with sad understanding. "Do you think she'll just go quietly to the dungeons then?" Gwen grimaced. "We can't face her head on, Gwen. Even if we did convince everyone, she'd just…" He waved his hand in the air like he was casting a spell. "She'd stop hiding." He stared at his own hand for a long moment, before slowly letting it drop to his side. "And… to stop her then… I don't want to imagine what we'd have to do."

Something in his expression made Gwen pause. "Merlin?"

He met her gaze, but there was a look in his eyes, one that reminded Gwen of her earlier thought: she really didn't know everything, and… that stung. She was missing a piece of the story, just like the scars Merlin kept hidden. "There's something you're not telling me."

Merlin opened his mouth, close to speaking, only to swallow the words back. His eyes slid to the floor, suddenly unable to face her. After a long heavy silence, he spoke. "Morgana's powerful, Gwen. I don't think conventional weapons can stop her."

Gwen's heart sank. "Then what do we do? We can't keep silent."

"No. If it comes down to it…I'll…" That same expression came to Merlin's face, before he sighed tiredly. "I don't know what I'm saying." Silence fell once more, filled with all the tension of their situation. Gwen hated it. And from the look on Merlin's face, he did too.

"We have to tell Arthur," she said again. This time Merlin didn't offer resistance, but his expression read clear as day. "You don't agree."

"Is telling him really the right thing to do?"

"Is leaving him in the dark any better?"

Neither of them could agree, though both knew whatever path they picked, Arthur would still be in danger.

They came up the last flight of steps and Merlin perked up at the sight of his home. The door was already open, and Gaius's voice could be heard ordering one of the guards to fetch a blacksmith. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. With his magic still rolling like the high seas, he hadn't dared try to get rid of the manacle. Not when the mere sight of it filled him with enough rage that his skin crawled and began to–

Merlin jumped as a guard burst out of the room, nearly crashing into them. Gwen yanked Merlin aside, but the rushing guard skittered back like they were nobility. Merlin blinked, not understanding why the guard was staring at him, but before he could say anything, the guard edged around them and took off down the hall. Merlin looked after him in confusion. What was that about?

Beside him, Gwen let out an angry huff.

"Gwen?" he said, turning to her.

But she didn't meet his gaze. "Come on, let's get you inside."

Gaius looked up as they finally entered, and froze at the sight of his ward. Merlin grinned back sheepishly, well aware of his own tattered state. "Hi Gaius," he greeted, nearly tripping as he tried to wave.

Gaius immediately snapped into physician mode. "Gwen, help him over to the bed here." Gaius gestured to his own bed, seeing as how Arthur taking up the only patient bed in the room.

Merlin shook his head wildly. "No, no really, I'm fine." Only to stumble again, before he'd even finished protesting.

"Merlin," Gwen said, as she pulled him further into the room. "You are most definitely _not_ fine." He grimaced. "Come on, into bed." She tried to lead him there, but he couldn't bring himself to move from where he stood. "Merlin?"

He pressed his lips together, knowing he'd been caught, but he couldn't quite bring himself to provide an answer. The hard look Gaius shot him, however, brought the debate to an end. "With all this ruckus…" Merlin glanced toward the still open door, fists clenching. "She's going to come investigate."

Gwen's stomach plumped. She didn't need to ask who.

"Let me deal with that," Gaius said. "You've done enough, Merlin. Now please, you need to–" He didn't get to finish before the King of Camelot came storming into the room.

Without even sparing the two servants a glance, Uther marched straight to the bed of his son. He stopped at the edge, and for a long moment just stood there, staring at Arthur. Then Uther's expression darkened like a storm cloud, and he wheeled on Gaius, voice dangerously low. "What happened?"

Gaius didn't look up from where he was examining Arthur. "The guards carried him in just moments ago, I don't know the details yet."

Uther jaw clenched. "And? How bad is he?"

Here Gaius paused, choosing his words carefully. "Head wounds are always tricky things, sire. I need time and space to work."

"Yes, of course." Uther took a step back, gesturing for the physician to continue. Gaius did so without comment.

Gwen shifted uncomfortably, subtly trying to push Merlin into moving, but the warlock was still stubbornly refusing to budge. It left them in an awkward state of standing in the middle of the room, not that Merlin cared. He was far more worried about when Morgana was going to make an entrance. Another minute passed and finally Gwen had had enough. "If you keep standing there, Merlin, so help me, I will let you fall flat on your face."

Mulishly Merlin refused budge.

"At least sit down then." She gestured to the small table that Gaius and Merlin used for meals, and figuring that was best compromise he was going to get, Merlin agreed. Gwen helped him over, easing him down onto the wooden bench. Once she was certain he was settled, she went to help Gaius, fetching bandages and other items the physician called for.

Merlin watched them lazily, struggling to keep his eyes open. He couldn't sleep, not until he got a feel for what Morgana's next move was going to be.

"Do you have anything to add, boy?" Merlin blinked, surprised at the loud voice. He turned his head, only to find Uther staring back at him. It took several moments longer for him to realize the King had just addressed him.

"What?" His brain was not up to speed.

His answer only seemed to provoke Arthur's father, if the murderous expression was anything to go by. Merlin blinked tiredly, wondering if he should be worried. There was a promise in Uther's eyes, one that involved reacquainting Merlin with his good old friend the stocks. Hmm, maybe he should be worried.

"Sire," Gaius interrupted, quite bravely if Merlin said so. "They have just been through a rather trying ordeal."

Uther nodded once to show he understood, though his anger did not abate in the slightest. "Boy," he barked, making Merlin jump. The King jabbed a finger at Arthur's arm, the one still trapped in the maniacal. "That is your shirt, is it not?" Merlin kept his eyes away from the bit of metal. He did _not_ want to see it. He'd scarified the last tattered remains of his shirt, hoping to protect the prince's already raw skin, but also to use it as a curtain to keep the manacle out of his own line of sight.

Merlin drew a slow breath. He'd never had problems with his temper before this, but now he had to watch it ever so carefully. "Yes, Your Majesty, that is my shirt."

"What _happened_!?" snarled Uther. "Arthur takes you everywhere, does he not?"

Merlin hesitated, eyes nervously flickering around the room. Gwen stood frozen by a shelf of bottles, while Gaius's expression had become pinched even as he continued to examine the prince. But as Merlin's eyes drifted toward the still open door he saw a shadow shifted just outside the frame. Morgana.

For a moment Merlin floundered, lost in indecision. But Gwen was right, and hadn't he thought the same thing only days ago? Things… couldn't continue like this.

He sat straighter, finally meeting Uther squarely in the eye. "We were ambushed, Sire."

The king's expression twisted with rage, and maybe once upon a time, Merlin would have found him frightening, but that day was long past. Right now, the shadow lurking just outside the door was far more dangerous.

He glanced at Gwen. He knew she wasn't going to keep silent about Morgana, not after this newest attack. She would tell Arthur as soon as the prince was well enough, and that would make them both bigger targets, unless…

Merlin turned to face Uther. Hmm, maybe he should be concerned about all the stupidly dangerous plans he'd been coming up with. But if it kept his friends safe…

He would gladly face the consequences, regardless of what they were.

He drew a deep breath. "The mercenaries ambushed us when we got there. They… knew we were coming."

"Are you saying someone tipped them off?"

Merlin nodded. "Yes, Sire." He tried to ignore the way Gaius stiffened.

Thankfully Uther was too focused on him to notice the physician's reaction. "Tell me everything, boy, and don't you dare leave a single thing out."

Everything? Merlin schooled his own reaction. When there was magic involved? Not a bloody chance in hell. So Merlin drew a deep breath, and did what he was becoming very good at doing, lying by omission. He told them about the ride out, the ambush, breezing over the trap by saying simply he was knocked out, and that when he woke up, both he and Arthur were in the mercenaries' camp, forgetting entirely to mention anything about a giant cage made to house something far bigger than a human. "So we escaped–"

"And the monster?" Merlin flinched. Uther scowled, pressing. "What about the enemies' monster?"

Merlin scrambled to pick up his narrative, but Uther's words, the reminder brought the situation crashing back down on his head. He was cursed. Made into a monster, which at the slightest trigger could–

Uther slammed his fist down in front of Merlin. "Tell me what happened!"

Merlin's skin crawled, _shifting_ , and then Gaius's calming hand was on his shoulder. Merlin went still, looking up at his mentor, as Gaius faced down the King. "That is enough, Sire." Merlin couldn't see the expression on his guardian's face, but it must have been good, because Uther, despite his resolute belief that no one was his equal, very quietly backed off.

Gaius was very much Merlin's hero in that moment.

Then the old physician turned, kneeling so he level with Merlin. "Are you alright?"

Merlin gave a shaky nod, swallowing hard. His hands tensed and relaxed against the edge of the table, but he just wanted to get this over with. He glanced once more at the King. "It– it escaped."

"How?"

Merlin stared down at the table. "I don't know, it just… started attacking them." His voice cracked. He'd been so furious. He hadn't let anything stand in his way. "We–" he faltered, gesturing toward Arthur. "I grabbed him and ran."

"Were you followed?" He could tell Uther wanted to snap at him, but Gaius's steady presence was apparently good for more than just keeping Merlin calm.

The warlock shook his head, relieved to be back on familiar ground. "I didn't stick around to find out." He hesitated. "I kept moving, as much as I could, even during the night. I… uh, that is, th– the monster must have hit them hard… I don't think it left very many of them alive." He tried to keep his voice steady, even as the memories bit at him.

Gaius's hand tightened on his shoulder, as though through force of will alone he could keep Merlin grounded. Merlin swallowed hard. He stared at his hands, at his long pale fingers, trying to forget the sharp claws they had been. Finally he had to tear his eyes away. He could still feel Morgana's shadow looming in the doorway. "They knew we were coming." He focused on the King. "Arthur and I were lucky to get away."

Uther's expression was unreadable now. "And what happened after that?"

Merlin sighed, resisting the urge to rub his forehead. "There really isn't much else to tell. I tried to bandage us up a bit. Other than that, I just walked back." He glanced back at the unconscious prince. "He woke up a few times, and he spoke… a bit, this morning, before the sun was up."

"That's a good sign," Gaius told him, even as his worried gaze lingered on his ward. "You did well, Merlin." The secret warlock smiled weakly at his guardian.

"One more question," Uther announced, adding when Gaius gave him a hard look. "And then I will leave you to recover." Merlin nodded his assent. "Did you get look at the monster? See what it was?"

Merlin's expression blanked, before he slowly began to shake his head. "No," he answered truthfully. "I didn't– see it."

"Very well." Apparently that was the answer Uther had been expecting, much to Merlin relief. The King glanced briefly toward Gaius. "I am to be informed the moment Arthur's condition changes." And with that, the King finally swept back out of the room. Merlin watched him go, not the least bit surprised Morgana was already gone.

Gaius patted his shoulder, a silent question in his eyes. But Merlin shook his head, glancing pointedly toward Gwen. With a reluctant nod, Gaius went to finish looking after Arthur, even as his eyes kept wandering back to Merlin.

Exhausted, the secret warlock flopped forward onto the rough wood of the table. They were home. They'd made it back and Merlin felt utterly spent. Maybe he was being a fool sending Uther on the hunt for Morgana. But there was one advantage, this would force her to lie low for a while, no matter how pissed she was, and give him some breathing room to figure out what to do about his… curse.

Just thinking about it made him unhappy. He was going to have to do research… and ask Gaius and… he was so very tired… so very…

"Merlin?" He startled awake, not even realizing he'd drifted off. His head was pooled in his arms, nose pressed against the wood of the table. He wiggled, moving his nose out of harms way and felt a soft blanket shifted from where it had been draped across his back. Gaius's hand touched his shoulder. "Are you injured at all?"

Not bothering to open his eyes, Merlin shook his head, only to pause. Oh right… his hand. It felt like ages ago when he fought that poor little pitcher. He'd never gotten the chance to have Gaius take a look at the injury. Slowly he pushed the limb forward onto the table.

Careful weathered hands lift his own up, turning it over to examine. There was a pause, where the silence of the room echoed heavily in Merlin's ears. The injury was four days old, and the sigh that escaped Gaius spoke exactly what he thought of that. He set Merlin's arm back down, moving away from the table.

Merlin listened as his guardian crossed the room, heading to collect some supplies. There were clinks, and rattles of bottles being shifted about as Gaius rummaged through his large collection for what he needed.

"Where's Gwen?" Merlin asked, voice echoing against the wood of the table.

"She's gone back to work," Gaius said, moving more bottles. "You've been asleep for over an hour." Ah, that explained a lot. "I'm surprised you didn't hear the blacksmith taking the manacle off." Merlin sagged. It was off Arthur then. Good. The blanket on Merlin's back slipped off his shoulders.

There was a final clink of glass before Gaius came back to the table. Merlin knew his guardian was waiting for him to explain what had really happened out there, but… suddenly he wasn't sure he wanted to. How did he even go about saying that he was– that he'd been–

A sound of distress escaped him.

"Take your time," his guardian said with a calmness that baffled the warlock. How Gaius could say that when… when… "Breathe Merlin." He did, though it was anything but steady. He squeezed his eyes shut, and his forehead pressed hard against the rough wood of the table. Quietly, Gaius settled onto the seat opposite him, placing his supplies down around him. "There now. Let's take a look at your hand."

Merlin turned his injured hand over, and Gaius began to gently clean the wound. The physician worked in silence, and after a while, even the quiet seemed to press in. Merlin couldn't take it. He wasn't ready to talk about what happened, but maybe if he worked his way up to it, he'd get the words out. So with a deep breath, Merlin aired one of his other worries. "Gwen's going to warn Arthur."

Gaius, for his part, didn't even pause in his work. "I assume you mean about the traitor." Carefully he began apply a salve to Merlin's injury.

Merlin stared into space. Even with an hour's sleep he still felt bone weary.

"Merlin?" He tensed, but didn't respond. Gaius sighed. "That was quite foolish what you said to Uther, you realize."

He shrugged, not surprised his guardian disapproved. "She has to be stopped."

"Really Merlin, and sending Uther on the hunt for her was the first thing you could think of?"

Merlin pushed his head up, gazing grimly up at his guardian. "What was I supposed to say? That this was some unplanned bandit attack? Morgana has enough free rein already, I can't– couldn't just–" He squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't know." He resisted the urge to burry his face once more. "I don't want Gwen or Arthur getting hurt."

Gaius paused from where he'd started wrapping a bandage around Merlin's hand. "That doesn't mean you should make yourself a bigger target, Merlin."

Merlin smiled weakly. "I know." He glanced to the now shut door of their room. "I saw her, though, listening at the door." His guardian shut his eyes, if possible, looking even more upset. Merlin knew this was a dangerous game he was playing. He turned his injured hand so he could touch his guardian's arm. "I'll be careful, Gaius, promise." He could only hope he really was doing the right thing. He gave Gaius's arm a gentle squeeze, forgetting for a moment which hand it was. "Ow!" He snatched his limb away.

"Careful." The physician caught his hand before he could unravel the whole of the cloth binding. "You're lucky that it's only a minor burn. You should have looked after it sooner." Merlin winced as the bandage was wrapped back into place. "How did you get it anyway?"

The wince turned into a grimace. "I got in a fight with a water pitcher and lost."

"Merlin." The famous eyebrow rose as Gaius gave him _the look_.

"Morgana booby-trapped the pitcher in Arthur's wash basin and I accidently set the spell off." He winced, biting his lip. "After that… I guess I just had bigger things to worry about…"

Gaius finished typing off the bandage, pausing before finally looking his ward in the eye. "What really happened out there, Merlin?"

And for all of Merlin's fear, the answer burst out of him. "I turned into a dragon!"

This time, both of Gaius's eyebrows shot up. Merlin winced, nervously twisting his hand over his new bandage. "I didn't do it on purpose," he said in a rush, afraid to stop speaking now that he'd started. "It wasn't– I don't– I didn't even know that it had taken until... until…" He choked, tears in his eyes. "They were trying to curse Arthur, and I couldn't just– I don't know what to do, Gaius."

Before he'd even finished, gentle arms wrapped around him, drawing him into a hug. "It's alright, Merlin." Gaius had moved without him realizing, taking up the spot on the bench beside him. He reached out, clinging to his guardian just as tightly. For a long while, they just stayed like that, and slowly Merlin began to calm.

When he finally did pull away from his guardian, he blew out a slow breath, whipping his eyes on the corner of the fallen blanket. He swallowed hard, finally saying the words out loud. "I've been cursed, Gaius."

His guardian carefully reached out, drawing the blanket back up around Merlin's shoulders. "I think, you should start again from the beginning. And slowly this time."

Merlin nodded quietly, and with another deep breath, he began again, telling Gaius what really happened. His guardian listened intently to his account, and once he was done, Gaius stood, fetching a cup and jug of water. The warlock accepted the water gratefully, not realizing till then how very thirsty he was.

Gaius settled, mulling over what had been said, while Merlin sipped at his water. "So, this trap, it was built right into the ground?"

Merlin nodded his head. "That's right." He set his cup down, before reaching into his pocket. "I didn't even know it was there, until well…" He brought the rocks out, placing them down on the table. "I've never seen anything that powerful before. It… the air was alive with magic, Gaius. Both of us were glowing with it."

Gaius nodded his head, gazing at the small stones. "Understandable, given both your natures."

Merlin blinked at that, not so much because of his own account, but rather because of Arthur's. He'd never thought about it before. He knew Arthur had been born from magic, and that had been the catalyst for Uther's hatred, but Merlin had never thought about it in the terms of magic leaving a mark on Arthur. It made sense though, magic had left its mark on both of them.

"Huh," he finally said. He idly wondered if that meant Arthur had the potential to maybe cast spells, and then snorted. Arthur using magic was about as likely as Merlin showing skill with a sword. It wasn't going to happen.

Gaius pointed to a single mark etched into one of the black stones. "Do you know what this rune means, Merlin?" He tapped the symbol, but Merlin could only shake his head. "It's a very old sign, used in rituals to gather up natural magic from the earth."

Merlin frowned. "Meaning what exactly?"

"Well, in the case of your trap, it was used to gather power for these other runes. It's an old trick developed by sorcerers to cast spells that are well beyond their abilities. It does, however, have one major downside; that is, beyond the time required to set it up properly."

Merlin grimaced. "Let me guess, the person has to walk right into it."

Gaius nodded. "If I had to guess, Morgana and Morgause picked that location specifically for its potency."

Merlin gave a dark chuckle. "There's no need to guess about that." He shivered. "It turned me into a dragon." Concern creased Gaius's brow, and he reached out for Merlin, only to have the warlock pull away. "I'm alright, really. I– we both made it back, that's what counts, right?" He smiled weakly. "And I haven't been the least bit scaly or fire breathing since that one bout of– of dragon-ness." His weak smile crumbled even more.

"But?" pressed Gaius. Sometimes his guardian was far too perceptive.

Merlin grimaced. "I can feel it sometimes… just under my skin, and… there's… Gaius, I think it's thrown my whole system out of balance. I can't–" He sighed. "It'll be easier just to show you." Drawing a breath, he raised his hand, palm pointed toward the cup he'd been drinking from. " _Rǽdee ásce geotan!_ "

His eyes flashed gold, and the cup instead of floating gently upward, shot straight into the air as though fired from a trebuchet. It shattered against the ceiling, sending wood fragments flying across the room.

Gaius stared at him wide-eyed, making Merlin cringe. "It's been like that since I was…" He drew his hands back, pulling the blanket more tightly around him.

Gaius's expression was unreadable, his brows creased. "I'm afraid I don't have an answer for you, Merlin. I'll need to do some research." Merlin nodded, he'd figured that was what Gaius's answer was going to be. "It the mean time, it would be best if you didn't use your magic at all." Merlin nodded tiredly, he'd guessed that as well. "And Merlin," Gaius began very carefully, in what was the voice he used for his patients. "Curses are by far one of the most dangerous and unpredictable forms of magic."

"I know," he said, his thoughts lingering on Freya.

It must have shown on his face. "My boy, I promise you, I won't let that happen."

Merlin offered a weak smile. "That's a dangerous promise to make, Gaius."

"And it won't stop me from making it." His guardian pressed a hand to his shoulder. "We'll figure this out, Merlin. I promise."

Despite himself the warlock smiled, nodding his head, and for the moment, let himself think that things really were going to be okay.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The day wore on, and Gaius began to look through his library, before he'd been forced to leave for his physician rounds. He'd given Merlin strict orders to rest, but the warlock had found himself too agitated to do so. He'd instead changed into new clothes, setting aside the shirt Gwen had given him, and set his antsy mind to researching how to break his curse.

Grabbing the first books he could find on the subject in the physician's collection, Merlin hauled them over to Gaius's reading table and settled in. Half an hour later saw him slamming the first book shut, and shoving it away across the table. He shuddered. Never before had he read anything that spoke so gleefully about the horrible effects curses had on someone. It was nauseating. He could only be thankful the text didn't include any of the incantations, but on the flip side it hadn't mentioned ways of breaking curses either.

He reached for the next dusty tome, praying it would hold the answer he was looking for. He flipped absently through its pages, until he found a relevant passage. Merlin perked up, hungrily taking in the words. _Curses are considered the most dangerous form of magic, for they blur the line between sorcerers and ourselves. This makes it imperative to uphold the distinctions between them and us–_

Merlin frowned, skimming over the diatribe. _A curse, once cast by the sorcerer, uses the victim's own magic to enact itself, and keep hold of the victim. In the case of where the victim is a sorcerer themselves, the curse renders them helpless, and unable to call upon their magic. This also makes them easier to kill, barring the nature of the curse._

 _In the few cases where the victim has previously had no contact with sorcery, they become more susceptible to its influence. This has no obvious effect on those who are cursed, but in the even fewer cases where the curse has been broken, the victims have succumbed to the lure of magic, and become that which twisted their nature to begin with: sorcerers. Thus the cycle continues, and those once victims have now met the same fate all magic users deserve: death by fire._

Merlin sat back in disgust. Clearly the only reason Gaius kept this book was because it had been okayed by Uther for singing the evils of magic. There was no way any of that could be truthful… right? Merlin bit his lip. If it was, then he was even more of an anomaly then he'd ever previously realized. He could still use his magic, wonky and uncontrolled that it was. The lore writer had to be wrong, or maybe cursed sorcerers simply didn't use their magic because it was out of control like Merlin found his own.

The warlock sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He snapped the book shut and stood, grabbing the first tome he'd shoved away. He carried it back over the Gaius's shelving unit. Setting his hand down on an empty spot of the shelf, he stood on his tiptoes to replace the book he was never _ever_ going to read again.

He was just settling back down on his feet, when something changed in the air. Merlin tensed, hand instinctively tightening on the bookcase. He hadn't heard the door move, but he knew without a doubt he wasn't alone anymore.

He debated what to do, but this was a confrontation he couldn't avoid. Drawing a breath, he turned to face the room. "What do you want, Morgana?"

She was leaning against the shut door, masks all dropped as she watched him with flinty eyes. "What? I can't come and visit dear Arthur now?" Her tone was mocking and edged with hatred.

Merlin's hand tightened on the shelf, nails digging far deeper into the wood then they should have. "You're trying to kill him."

She didn't even bat an eye. "Of course I am."

"He's done nothing to you, Morgana!"

She sighed, waltzing further into the room, absently examining the jars Gaius had left out, possibly looking for poisons. "And what are you going to do to stop me?"

Merlin said nothing.

Morgana smirked, lazily passing the table and its contents by. Her eyes fell to Arthur, where he lay prone on the patient bed. This time Merlin did move, skirting one of the tables to stand between the two siblings. Morgana only looked amused. "Really Merlin?" She raised a delicate eyebrow. "You must be as mentally deficient as Uther says."

Merlin wasn't moved by her words. "I'm giving you one last chance, Morgana."

She drew herself up, the smile falling from her lips. "Then let me give you a warning, Merlin. You might think you're being clever sending Uther after me, but if you try so much as to point another finger in my direction," she leaned in threateningly. "I'll burry you."

Merlin didn't bat an eye. "You already want me dead."

Morgana gave him a smile that was anything but pleasant. "I'm glad we've come to an understanding then." She turned gracefully, about to leave when his hand caught her arm.

"And if you touch Arthur," he growled menacingly. "I'll see you burn."

For a moment shock overtook her face, before it was replaced by something far more dangerous: dawning realization. Merlin's stomach dropped, but before he or Morgana could do anything, there was a moan from the bed behind them.

They froze and then it was like someone magically snapped their fingers as Morgana abruptly changed back into the caring ward of Uther Pendragon. Merlin could only stare as her eyes suddenly filled with tears. She tried to rush toward the waking prince, but Merlin stepped in her way.

Behind him, Arthur groaned. "Mer…lin…?"

Taken by surprise, he turned, and that was all Morgana needed to get by him. "Arthur!" she cried with false joy, taking over the chair at his bedside. "Thanks the gods you're awake."

Arthur blinked blurrily, slowly turning his head towards her. "Morgana?" He seemed genuinely surprised to see her. Merlin took a step closer, making sure she knew very well he was still there. Not that she seemed to care.

She clasped one of Arthur's hands in her own, allowing her tears to roll down her face. "I thought the worse when they carried you in. I should have never sent you after that monster."

The prince shook his head. "No, Morgana. We were taken by surprise, it's not your fault."

Merlin was very hard pressed not to snort.

Morgana offered a watery smile. "How did you ever manage to escape?"

So _that_ was her aim. Arthur didn't have more than a chance to frown, before Merlin cut into their conversation. "I carried him out, but I'm sure you've already heard the excruciating details by now."

Morgana's eyes narrowed at him. Not subtle, but Arthur was still too out of it to notice.

" _You_? Carried _me_ out?" But, apparently, not so out of it to be incredulous.

Merlin scowled at them both, not that it worked, for two very different reasons. "Need I remind you, Arthur, about a certain incident with _Sophia_."

Arthur paled. "Shut up _Mer_ lin." Oh good, his memory was working just fine.

But his comment had done its job, and the prince, now mortified, had fallen silent. Now he just had to get rid of the other problem. "You shouldn't strain him, Morgana, he did just wake up." Or pump him for more information.

"You're right," Morgana agreed far too easily. "Why don't you go fetch Gaius, then, and he can have a proper look at Arthur."

Merlin bristled. "I don't think that'll be needed. Gaius'll be back any minute now."

Morgana raised an eyebrow as though saying, _Is that supposed to scare me?_ But she thankfully didn't call him on it, because as far as Merlin knew Gaius wouldn't be back for another hour, or more. So maybe it wasn't so thankfully, then, because Morgana took full advantage his answer. "Then there's no harm in keeping Arthur company, now is there?" She smiled far too sweetly.

Arthur was now frowning at both of them. Lovely.

She turned her focus back on the prince, carefully fluffing his pillow up. "Now, how are you feeling Arthur?" _How much effort do I need to put into my next attempt at killing you?_

Arthur puffed up his chest, suddenly all bravado. "Never felt better."

Morgana's smile turned up at the corners. "That's good to hear, you took a nasty blow to the head." She reached out toward injury.

Merlin 'clumsily' bumped into her chair, knocking it with enough force that she had to catch her balance. "Sorry." He smiled with false sincerity as her eyes shot daggers at him. Ha! As if that was going to work. He finished passing her chair, calling to the prince. "Gaius said not to touch the bandage, Arthur."

A huff escaped the blond, as Merlin picked up a cup and poured some water into it. "Are you thirsty?"

"Very." Arthur immediately tried to sit up on his own.

Bringing the cup, Merlin hurried over to help. It was difficult with the use of only one hand, but there was no way he was even going to think about letting Morgana do anything.

Once settled, Arthur held out his hand for the cup, which Merlin carefully handed over, silently appraising to see if the prince really was steady enough for the task. Thankfully for Arthur's pride, he was, bringing the cup to his lips and taking several deep gulps. Finished, the prince smacked his lips loudly in the oppressive silent that had fallen over the room.

He frowned, glancing back and forth between Merlin and Morgana. Finally he turned to his servant. "What of the knights? Are they…"

But Merlin was already shaking his head. "We're the only ones who made it back. I'm sorry Arthur."

"I see."

Morgana reached out and patted the prince's knee. "I'm sure they died honourable deaths." Merlin twitched, but she withdrew before he needed to 'accidently' bump her chair again. "From what I hear, your lucky to have even escaped alive."

"Luck?" Arthur scoffed. "It was skill." Oh, as if his head wasn't big enough as it was.

Merlin shook his head. "You were unconscious for most of it, Arthur."

Arthur waved dismissively. "That's beside the point. Those mercenaries wouldn't have stood a chance otherwise."

Merlin tried to keep his expression schooled, but the memories were back again, dancing in horrible circles in his mind.

Arthur was right. The mercenaries hadn't stood a chance.

Morgana's lips curled into an unpleasant smile. "From what I've heard, they couldn't even stand up to their own beast. Fools."

Arthur snorted, saying without care, "Dead fools now."

This time Merlin did have to turn away, but he could feel Morgana's eyes on his back. His shoulders tensed, but he couldn't face her, not without giving away much more.

Morgana gave of soft 'tsk', beforesmoothly rising to her feet. "Too bad they can't all be gallant escapes." She began to make her way toward the door. Merlin turned, watching her very carefully from where he stood beside Arthur's bed.

After all that, she was already leaving?

She paused at the door, glancing back. "Get well soon, Arthur, you are Camelot's dragon slayer, after all." Her eyes rose, resting solely on Merlin. "You can never be too sure when a monster needs slaying."

Merlin froze, even as she slipped out the door. He'd been wrong. She hadn't been here because she wanted more details about what happened, she'd come because she was looking for her monster, and Merlin had no doubt that she'd just found him.

 **000000000000000**

Dun, dun duuuuh! Well, that's not good. What have you gotten yourself into now Merlin?

In other news, we've officially hit the halfway mark of the story and to celebrate I gave you guys a slightly longer chapter. Hurray! Which I had to even out by adding a cliffhanger, so there is that. Hurray to me!

Gwen is such a cool character to write. I always liked the scenes in the series where you got to see a hint of the Queen she's going to become. So, of course with this, I had to have Gwen take charge of the situation when Merlin shows up with Arthur, and have her boss the guards around.

I also have to admit scenes involving Morgana are fast becoming one of my favourite things to write. It's probably because of the word fencing I have her and Merlin go through in this chapter. So yeah, right now it's a toss up of which scene I like most: the one above with Morgana, or the first scene of chapter one with Merlin waking up Arthur and the stressed out hunt to find out what Morgana's done to the room. Though, I will admit that's not counting any of the scenes coming up in the next three chapters. But my lips are sealed about those.

Next Time: In which Merlin panics and his friends both do and do not help. Look forward to Chapter 4: A Traitor on Feb 19th.

A big thank you to all my readers and reviewers! You guys have been great. I've really enjoyed reading all your comments. Till next time dear readers!


	4. A Traitor

**Chapter 4: A Traitor**

"What's going on?" Gwen stood in the doorway to Gaius's chambers, staring at the chaos within. To her delight, Arthur was awake, and sitting propped up against several pillows, but her joy was swiftly lost at the sight of her other friend. Merlin was swearing up a storm as he ransacked Gaius's library. Most of the books he grabbed were quickly discarded into a heap on the floor. Occasionally, though, he would pause on certain titles, and instead of throwing them away, he'd shoved them into a waiting backpack siting on a nearby table.

Gwen stared, flabbergast. She'd never seen Merlin like this. What was going on? She turned to the room's other occupant. "Arthur?"

The prince looked somewhere between exasperated and somewhat impressed with some of the creative cussing that was coming from his servant. The prince, however, could only shake his head at her question. "He's been like this since Morgana left."

All the colour drained out of Gwen's face. "Morgana was here! Merlin, what happened?"

"Not you too," groused Arthur.

But Merlin wouldn't look at them as he jammed yet another book into his bag. Gwen could see the fear in his eyes though, and that was the last straw. She'd had enough. This couldn't wait until Arthur was back on his feet.

She turned, moving to sit on the edge of the prince's bed. "Arthur. There's something we need to tell you."

The prince straightened, glancing back and forth between Merlin and Gwen. A creeping suspicion came over him, and he narrowed his eyes. "Does this have something to do with Morgana?"

"Yes." Gwen hesitated unsure what to say next.

Without pausing in what he was doing, Merlin took the conversation out of her hands. "She's trying to kill you."

Arthur let out an incredulous bark of laughter. "What?"

Gwen sighed. If this was how Merlin approached things, then it was no wonder that Arthur never believed him. "It's true, Arthur."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "And I'm a sorcerer. What next? You're going to say she wants me dead so she can have the crown?"

Gwen bit her lip. "Well…"

"You're serious." The amusement died from his expression. "No, I don't want to hear it. Morgana has been though enough with her kidnapping–"

Merlin snorted.

Arthur rounded on him. "Is there something you'd like to say, _Mer_ lin?"

The dark haired servant shook his head, turning back to the bookshelves. "I wouldn't exactly call getting 'kidnapped' by her sister an ordeal."

Arthur's jaw dropped. "Sister!?"

Merlin glanced at them, puzzled "Yeah, Morgause. She and Morgana are sisters, didn't you know?" Taking in their shocked looks, apparently they hadn't. Merlin grimaced. "Hopefully not related on their father's side, that would be…" He shuddered.

Arthur looked at Gwen, but she was clearly just as confused.

Arthur crossed his arms. "Alright, they're related." He eyed the two servants. "Saying I believed you about the other part, how exactly is Morgana trying, or, dare I say, _tried_ to kill me?" He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Gwen looked even more put out. "Arthur, this isn't a game."

"Fine, but without proof–"

"Arthur," said Merlin. "Do you really think Morgana is stupid enough to leave proof? She set us up with that so called mission, and knew darn well the mess we'd land in!" Merlin clenched his teeth as his temper began to bubble. He went still, turning his back to his friends as he forced himself to take a slow deep breath. Calmer he reached for another book on the half empty shelves. "Not to mention what else she's done."

Arthur scoffed. "What else _has_ she done?"

"Lists? You want lists now?"

Arthur's tone oozed his patented and oh so irritating arrogance, practically singing I'm-being-a-prat. "I'm all ears."

"Fine then." Merlin turned on his heel to face them. "Besides the trap she sent us into, there's the poison she put in your breakfast the morning we left, the water pitcher filled with acid, the guard who was bought off to switch your sword, likely hoping for death by training accident, along with various other items in your room which have been either changed out, or booby-trapped in some fashion. Your favourite belt, by the way, exploded."

"What!?" Arthur remembered Merlin saying he'd misplaced it.

Merlin blinked at him, surprised by his reaction. "That was only this week, you realize. I haven't even mentioned–"

"Stop." Arthur pressed a hand to his head, trying to hide how shaky he suddenly felt. He wasn't sure he believed this. The attempts? Oh, most certainly. He was the crown prince, such attempts were not unheard of, and Merlin was definitely idiotic enough to try and stop any plans against his life. That _was_ how their bizarre… friendship? That was how this had all started, after all.

But Morgana? Arthur didn't believe it.

"Arthur." Gwen's voice was grave, making him dread her next words. "I… I caught her preforming magic."

Despite himself, Arthur's stomach dropped. He _didn't_ want to believe it.

Gwen's eyes were watery, as she twisted her hands nervously together. "I suppose it makes sense that they're sisters, I saw them– Morgause in the market, right before you left on your quest to prove yourself as the crown prince of Camelot. She… she spoke with Morgana, Arthur."

"About what?"

But Gwen could only shake her head. "I don't know. But I got suspicious, so I… I hid in Morgana's room one evening, and…"

Arthur's mouth went dry. "And that's when you saw her preforming magic."

Gwen nodded her head.

The prince's mind whirled. That was getting close to being a full month ago now. They'd known for that long and said nothing? "Can you confirm this as well Merlin?" He needed more facts before he came to any sort of conclusion. "Have you seen Morgana preforming… magic?"

There was no answer.

Surprised, Arthur looked up, suddenly realizing how very quiet his servant had gone. "Merlin?"

The secret warlock flinched, silently refusing to meet his gaze.

Gwen turned as well, but instead of surprise, she reacted with anger. "I knew it! Morgana has done something."

Merlin eyes widened as he shook his head far too many times. "No!"

Arthur felt ill. Merlin was a _terrible_ liar. But that meant…

He opened his mouth, not quite believing. "Did Morgana threaten you?" The words felt foreign on his tongue.

Merlin scoffed, still on edge. "Do you want a list of that too?"

"Oh Merlin…" Gwen rose to her feet, but Merlin shook his head, turning away from them. But that didn't stop Gwen from coming to stand beside him. She took one of his clenched fists, gently pulling his fingers loose. She paused when she saw the bandage wrapped around his palm. "Did she do this too?"

Merlin grimaced, admitting. "I wasn't exactly careful with moving that water pitcher."

Arthur suddenly felt very cold. "Those incidences you mentioned, did she use magic in any of them?"

Merlin hesitated, eyes dancing away, and that alone was answer enough.

Arthur shut his eyes, grinding his teeth. "How long, have you known about this?"

Silence hung over the room.

"How long Merlin?"

"You're not going to like the answer, Arthur."

The prince tried to contain his temper. "I asked you a direct question, Merlin. How long have you known about Morgana's magic?"

Merlin looked pained, staring at Arthur for a long moment. "Since the druids… kidnapped her." Merlin fell silent, knowing full well that incident had happened two years ago.

There was long pause before Arthur exploded. "Why have you _never_ said anything!"

"Because back then she was still loyal to Camelot! And I promised her as a friend that I wouldn't– that I would keep her magic a secret." Merlin's expression crumbled into guilty sorrow. "It was… the last promise I made as her friend."

Arthur seethed. "And now she wants me dead."

"You, me, your father."

"Why?"

Merlin shut his eyes, giving a weary sigh. "Isn't wanting the crown enough?"

He was lying again. Arthur's temper exploded. "Dammit Merlin! Are you _trying_ to get me killed?"

Merlin bared his teeth. "How dare you! I've been running myself into the ground trying to keep you alive, you ungrateful clot-pole. If you want to know _why_ so badly then go ask your father!"

That brought Arthur up short. "What does my father have to with any of this?"

Merlin blanched, looking torn between answering and jumping out the window.

Gwen stepped between them. "Enough!" She shot Arthur a glare as he tried to protest. "I mean it. We're on the same side here."

Arthur crossed his arms, glaring at his bed sheets. "I don't see how my father could possibly know anything that would drive Morgana to murder."

Merlin sighed, eyes going dark and deep with that strange wisdom that liked to pop up at the oddest times. "Uther has everything to do with it. Though, despite what Morgana thinks, there were many hands involved, and not one of them innocent."

Arthur swallowed hard. "You're talking in riddles."

Merlin blinked, and the illusion of wisdom broke. "I suppose I am." He tried to smile but the worry was starting to creep back into his expression. He glanced toward the bookshelves.

Arthur frowned. "What are you doing anyway?"

"Oh, that's– nothing. Don't worry about it." Merlin forced a grin. High above the warning bells began to clang. Merlin froze, and then he leapt forward, cursing as he grabbed up his backpack, barely pulling it shut before the books tumbled out.

"Merlin, what is it?"

"Morgana's made her move."

Both his friends froze, but there wasn't time.

He grabbed a quill and a scrap of parchment from the table, quickly scribbling a note. _Gaius,_ he wrote in quick rough letters. _M's sprung plan._

Not entirely sublet but he didn't have time to write anything more cryptic. "Gwen, I need you to look after Arthur."

"What!"

He continued to write. _She knows about_ –

Gwen caught his arm, making him drag the 't' out across the piece of parchment. "Gwen!" His hand knocked into a bottle, sending it and several other items crashing to the floor.

"Merlin you can't leave! What about Morgana?"

"Gwen, I _can't_ stay! She'll– _please_ just let me go."

"She'll what? What has she done? Merlin, you–" Something hit the side of her shoe. Gwen glanced down, and that was all it took to silence her.

"Guinevere?" Arthur was immediately on alert, trying to crane his neck to see what was going on.

Gwen bent down, picking up a small etched stone, one of the ones Merlin had brought back from the ruin. The secret warlock froze. Gwen's hand began to shake. "Merlin, what is this?"

He didn't want to answer.

Arthur stared. "Merlin?"

His skin began to crawl. "I can't stay! If she– I could–" A spasm ran through his hands, nails becoming sharp points. No, no _no_.

He turned, and fled for the door. "Merlin!" they both shouted. He didn't stop, reaching for the handle just as the door burst open. Merlin scrambled back as three guards filed into Gaius's chambers.

The third guard pointed at Merlin. "Seize him."

"What's the meaning of this!" Arthur tried to rise out of bed.

Merlin bristled, a growl rising in his throat. The backpack slipped from his shoulder, spilling the books he'd collected onto the floor. If they tried to–

Gwen stepped between them. She stared down the guards, hiding a clasped stone behind her back. Merlin's breath caught. That was the etched stone. Was she… was she going to turn him in?

Then Gwen spoke. "What do you think you're doing seizing one of Gaius's patients? Did you not hear your prince ask you a direct question?"

The guards hesitated, looking back toward their leader. The third guard bowed to the prince. "My apologies, Prince Arthur, but we're following King Uther's orders, you'll have to take the matter up with him."

So that was what was going on. Morgana had played her move well. If he tried to make a run for it, the whole of Camelot's force would come after him. With his magic useless, he'd never make it out of the city.

Merlin placed a hand on Gwen's shoulder. "It's okay, Gwen. I'll go with them."

"But Merlin–"

He pushed past her and the guards grabbed hold of him. Merlin drew a slow, slow breath, making no move to resist. The last thing he wanted was to provoke another reaction out of his curse. It was already too close to the surface.

The guards yanked Merlin's arms up behind his back and began to force him from the room. The last thing he saw before he was shoved through the door was the leader bowing to Arthur. "If you excuse me, Prince Arthur, but I must follow orders–" The rest of what he said was lost to Merlin dragged away.

It was an uncomfortable trip. The guards were tense, nervous even, as though they expected him to do something. Merlin, for the most part, ignored them. Whatever Uther wanted it couldn't be good, and Merlin had to make sure he didn't loose his temper, otherwise…

He drew a shaky breath as they reached the hall leading to the throne room. The doors were opened at their approach, the old wood creaking ominously. Gaius rushed out, following alongside a stretcher carried by two servants. Merlin's guards yanked him aside as the stretcher passed, but for all his focus on his patient, Gaius was not completely blind.

"Merlin!" His guardian screeched to a stop as he saw the two guards flanking the warlock. "What–"

Gaius never got to finish as the King of Camelot's voice boomed out. "Bring him!" Merlin swallowed hard, looking back at his guardian as he was hustled into the throne room.

Gaius was barely able to hide his fear. "Sire!"

"Thank you, Gaius, but please see to Sir Leon." Uther waved dismissively from where he stood at the front of the room.

Merlin twisted his head, straining to catch sight of the stretcher. It was Leon. Relief rushed through Merlin. Thank the gods, one of Arthur's knights had made it back from Morgana's trap. They hadn't all perished.

Then the great doors to the hall were slammed shut, leaving Gaius and the wounded Leon on the other side. Merlin swallowed hard, trying not to show his fear as the guards dragged him before Uther. All the eyes of the court were upon him. Arthur's father looked murderous, but it was the terrible smirk upon Morgana's face that really worried Merlin.

His guards stopped him just short of where the King stood, and with rough hands, forced him to his knees. All was dead silent in the large hall. No one spoke, and no one told him why he'd been brought here, and for that reason alone, Merlin held his tongue.

The murderous look still hadn't left Uther's face and one wrong word could easily be his last.

"Well?" the King finally said. "What have you to say for yourself?"

Merlin stared at him blankly.

"Speak!" Uther's voice echoed in the closed space.

The gathered nobles stared as though trying to drill holes through Merlin's skull. He didn't think he'd ever had this much attention on him before, and frankly found it very unnerving.

"My lord," Merlin started off as politely as he could, voice surprisingly steady. "I don't know why I've been brought here."

Uther's eyes glittered dangerously. "Should we start off with something simpler then?" He eyed Merlin with a calculating look. "You caused quite an uproar when you carried Arthur all the way to the castle." Merlin frowned, not sure where this was going. "Tell me, your scars, are they because you really are that disobedient a servant?"

Merlin's face flushed. How in the– Oh, that explained why Gwen had given him the shirt, and, come to think of it, the nervous air of his guards. Merlin cleared his throat. "I've had them for years."

"Really, how did you come by them? Torture? A promise to deliver my son into enemy's hands to save you own worthless skin?"

Merlin couldn't believe this. "I got them by keeping your son safe."

"Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"If I wanted Arthur dead I would never have carried him back to Camelot!"

"Then you admit it! You do want my son dead!"

"No!" exclaimed Merlin. By the gods, Uther was as bad as his son! "Are you even listening to me?"

"Don't talk back to me, boy!" The King snarled in his face. Merlin held his ground, eyes narrowed. "Who paid you to kill my son?"

"No one! I don't want him dead. Can't you see that? I've been saving his life since the day I arrived here!" He couldn't see Morgana, but her very presence set him on edge. "And I'll protect him, no matter who threats his life."

Slowly, the King of Camelot drew away, a calculating look in his eyes. He took several steps as he weighed the truth of Merlin's words. The warlock didn't let his gaze waver. "Tell me again, boy, how you escaped and brought Arthur back here."

Merlin frowned. "I don't understand."

"You accompanied him and his knights to find Morgana's kidnappers, correct?"

"Arthur takes me everywhere, you said so yourself."

"And yet," Uther leaned in once more. "Morgana saw Arthur dismiss you back to the castle." Merlin's eyes darted to the King's ward. "You speak to me, boy."

Merlin's gaze jumped back. This was not good.

"Do you deny it?" pressed Uther.

"Your Majesty–"

"Do you deny it?"

Merlin was silent for a long moment. "No."

A murmur ran through the room. Uther backed off, taking several measured steps away as he allowed the court to draw their own conclusions.

"Now, tell me again," Uther continued, and the hall fell silent. "From the very top, what happened after Arthur dismissed you from the courtyard?"

Merlin shifted uneasily, or tried to, but his guards weren't giving him any wiggle room. He'd already told Uther this story, and changing the half-truths he'd said would only make things worse. He needed to move the topic along. "Well," he began, "I went anyways, and we set out."

"Interesting. All of you?"

"Yes."

"And how many knights were there?"

Merlin hesitated. "There were fourteen of us in all."

But Uther was no fool, and Merlin could feel the trap closing in on him. "And you were with them the whole time?"

"That's right." Any other answer would see Uther accusing him of conspiring with the enemy again.

It didn't stop Merlin from feeling uneasy though, especially when there was a flash of victory in the King's eyes. "And yet, our returned knight, Sir Leon, never once saw you. How do you explain that, boy?"

Merlin let out a slow sigh. So that was it then. He'd been dodging the point on purpose. Impersonating a knight was punishable by death, a fact Lancelot came very close to finding out first hand. Merlin would too if he admitted to having stolen Arthur's spare armour.

It was a nasty problem. If he said nothing, he'd be declared a traitor and that amounted to the same thing. Neither answer was going to save him here. No wonder Morgana looked so happy. Did she think backing him into a corner would cause him to panic and go all scaly and fire breathing? Too bad! He… actually, he wasn't feeling too confident.

Sweat trickled down his brow. He curled and uncurled his fingers, trying to reassure himself that they really were just that, normal human fingers. "Your Majesty," he began, but he really didn't know what to say.

Uther could see that to. He raised his hand into the air, an order on his lips, when the doors of the throne room opened once more, drawing everyone's attention.

"Arthur!" exclaimed the King, though Merlin couldn't turn enough to see. Uther stepped past him, out of his field of vision, leaving Merlin to stare up at the thrones where Morgana sat. Her eyes narrowed, but her expression remained mostly neutral.

The whole court was assembled after all. Merlin grimaced.

"Father," greeted the regal tones of a certain cabbage headed prince, and Merlin admitted, if only to himself, he really was happy to see him. As Arthur's steps drew closer, however, it became clear they were faltering at best. Merlin felt a spike of worry. It wasn't so long ago that Arthur had been unconscious because of his head injury, what if he pushed himself too far? "Why is my servant being treated like this?"

Uther came back into Merlin's line of sight, circling him like a predator. "Your _servant_ stands accused of conspiring against your life, and consorting with the enemy."

Arthur gave a bark of laughter, the same incredulous note in his voice as when Merlin had revealed Morgana's desire to kill him. "Really? _Mer_ lin? Have you even looked at him, father?"

"Have you?" retorted Uther.

There was a beat, in which Arthur said nothing, and even as short as it was, it was far too telling. Merlin knew he'd shaken Arthur with revealing Morgana, he knew that. He'd just… he hadn't thought that the prince would question his loyalty as well.

"Merlin," the prince abruptly addressed him, making the warlock jump. "Is there anything I should know about you that I don't already?" The question was a challenge to his father, in which Arthur confidently thought he already knew the answer.

Merlin's heart twisted guiltily. _How about I'm a warlock, and that I'm turning into a monster._

There was a scoff from the front of the throne room. "Really Arthur?" Apparently Morgana had gotten tired of staying silent. "That has to be the stupidest question I've heard yet."

Merlin glowered at her. Not that it did any good, she simply raised an eyebrow in challenge, silently daring him to answer Arthur's question truthfully. Merlin swallowed hard, but didn't look away. The secret hung ominously in the air between them.

She knew what he was becoming.

He curled his hands, nails digging into his palms. She might very well reveal his curse here. She was trying to corner him, to get him to transform. He refused to play into her trap. Knowing it was there, that was half the battle, or so he hoped. He really dearly hoped.

"And yet, you forget, Morgana," Arthur said, voice serious, "Merlin saved my life. If it weren't for him," the prince paused for effect, "I wouldn't be standing here." There were more faltering steps, and when Merlin turned his head it was to find Arthur, supported by Gwen, standing beside him. "The fact Merlin's loyalty is even being questioned, that is the real stupidity here."

Uther's expression darkened. "If you are so certain, then explain how it is one of your very own knights never saw him."

Arthur looked thoroughly unimpressed. "That's because Merlin was wearing armour." Murmurs ran around the room once more. Arthur turned his head, pitching his voice for all to hear. "I thought it was common knowledge how much of a klutz my servant is. And, considering the dangerous nature of our mission, I thought it best to make sure he came back in one piece. I'm not surprised he was too embarrassed to tell you that, Father."

The warlock grimaced, reminding himself that Arthur was here to _help_ him, and when this was all over, he would have plenty of time to both thank him and pay him back for that jab. Until then… he was just going to have to put up with it… maybe. Holding his tongue had never been his strong suit.

Thankfully Uther spoke again, before Merlin could say anything unflattering. "True as that may be, tell me, why _was_ he even out there? Morgana said you dismissed him back to the castle."

"Did she now," Arthur said with far more interest then he should have shown. Merlin tensed, but the prince was smart enough to keep his focus solely upon his father. "She asked to speak with me in private, so obviously I dismissed him."

"Back to the castle?"

Arthur pressed his lips together. "Merlin, tell my father why I sent you back to the castle."

Of all the times to run out of ideas and throw it back on him! Merlin bit back a growl, very carefully drawing a breath. "You sent me to finish getting ready, Sire, including getting my… um, armour."

This wasn't going to work. Uther was going to hang him just for that alone, but to his surprise the King seemed unbothered by the fact he'd worn armour, that, or he was saving his anger for when he and Arthur were in private. Merlin grimaced, he could just imagine the argument. Uther furiously chewing Arthur out for allowing a servant to use such things, _blah, blah, blah._

Just thinking about it made him feel sorry for Arthur.

Uther focus shifted back to Merlin once more. "What happened to the armour?"

A flash of memory came to him, and, for a moment, he could almost feel the great black wings that had destroyed the chainmail. Merlin shook his head, shoving the memory as far away as he could. "The– the mercenaries took it. The quality was probably better then their own, and I didn't have time to look for it when they– um, when we left."

Beside him, Arthur frowned, looking worriedly toward him, a silent question in his eyes. But Merlin could no more answer, than he could look at Morgana. He could practically feel her horrible all knowing smile from here, and it made him shudder.

Morgana leaned forward on her chair. "Is it just a coincidence then, Arthur, that you told your servant to attend to other duties that didn't involve serving you?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed, perhaps finally seeing the game she was playing. "Such as packing his own things? Really, Morgana, are you doubting my word?"

There was a slight pause, before she was forced to say, "Of course not." She fell silent, but Merlin guessed she was fuming.

"Very well, Arthur," said Uther in a measured tone. "How do you account for the scars?"

Arthur's brow furrowed. "What scars?"

Merlin winced, studying the floor as Uther pointed at him. "The ones covering his torso."

Arthur's mouth fell open, expression stunned. He looked to Merlin, a fear and a new question in his eyes. _Morgana. Did she do this as well?_ Merlin hesitated, shaking his head once. But his slight pause had not gone unnoticed and Arthur's jaw clenched. Oh no–

"If I may, my lord," Gwen's timid voice caught them off guard. Uther waved at her to continue. "Merlin was injured during the dragon attack. I–I treated the burns myself, and I'm sure Gaius can give you full detail of the others."

Uther stared at her, and though Gwen did not challenge his gaze, she gave no hint that she had just lied to his face. Arthur looked shocked, but considering he clearly knew nothing about this whole situation, his reaction didn't read as strange. Merlin drew a breath and waited.

Finally Uther rounded on him once more. "Have you anything else to say?"

"Father," Arthur cut in. "Merlin has done nothing wrong."

Uther did not look happy. "Arthur, while your defence of your servant is _admirable_ ," the way Uther said the word certainly didn't make it sound like that, "you must consider–"

Arthur scowled. "There is nothing to consider, Father. I stand by what I have said. This has all been one big misunderstanding. Merlin has been in my service for years, and has proven his dedication and loyalty many times. Any insult to him, I'm afraid, is an insult to me. So unless you have some other piece of evidence against him, then I must demand his release."

Uther was silent for a very long moment. Merlin held his breath.

The King turned toward him, the promise of death in his eyes. "Know this boy, if you so much as breathe treachery near my son, _**nothing**_ will save you from my wrath." Merlin swallowed hard. "Clear?"

He nodded quickly.

Uther stepped away. "Release him."

Merlin blinked as his guards immediately let him go. A breath escaped him, as relieved beyond words, he rose shakily to his feet. Arthur had done it. He was free, which probably meant he owed the prat a very large thank you. Oh well. He glanced gratefully toward the prince, who answered by throwing a smug smirk over his shoulder at Morgana. Oh bloody–

Her eyes widened, and all the colour in her pale cheeks vanished. Her gaze darted fearfully from Arthur to Merlin, and then her face flushed with anger. "NO!" Her voice bloomed in the hall as she surged to her feet.

Uther turned, confusion colouring his voice. "Morgana, what are–"

"I won't keep silent any longer!" Fury shone in her gaze and it was focused solely on Merlin. "No matter what you do to me!" Arthur and Gwen instinctively moved closer to their friend, as though to shield him from her wrath. But Morgana's fury only grew. She pointed straight at Merlin. "That man is a traitor! He tried to kill me with poison!"

Merlin flinched, eyes squeezing shut as shock rippled through the crowd, and that one act, that one show of guilt was all it took for Merlin to damn himself. Everyone saw him react and Uther turned red with rage.

"Guards!" roared the King.

They were back on him in less than a second. Morgana's eyes shone with triumph. She waited for him to react, to fight, to break loose, and for his curse to consume his form and make him mow down her all enemies with fire; but Merlin did nothing. He stood there, racked with guilt, and let the guards shove him to the floor.

"Take him to the dungeons!"

He didn't look at his friends, and neither rose to his defence as he was dragged away. A hallow feeling had settled in his chest. The curse churned within him, but he wouldn't let it out. He refused to give it an opening, even if it meant loosing his last chance at freedom. Merlin swallowed hard. It looked like he didn't owe Arthur a thank you anymore.

 **000000000000000**

Great job Arthur, you just had to gloat. This is why Merlin doesn't tell you anything, you realize. But then Merlin tends to just blurt out things like 'Oh hey, Morgana is trying to kill you,' so I guess it all evens out in the end.

I can't imagine what would have happened if the series had actually had it that Morgause was related to Morgana on their father's side. Just think about it, the idea that Uther is Morgause's Dad, and that Uther basically has a whole pile of MAGICAL kids! The irony is so wonderful and still amuses me any time I think about it.

So yeah, I couldn't resist doing a quiet-ish scar reveal on Merlin. Felt like a good way of adding fuel to the fire with Uther's interrogation, plus it was also fun having it that Arthur was the last one to find out.

I do feel bad about picking on Leon. But I needed a named knight from the series and sadly at this point in time Leon was the only one. So there you go, Leon's cameo appearance, in which he almost died. Sorry Leon, this seems to happen to you a lot, even in cannon.

Next time: In which Merlin is imprisoned and Morgana decides he needs a plan of escape. Look forward to Chapter 5: A Battle on March 11th.

Thanks for reading and reviewing! You guys have been great. Till next time wonderful readers!


	5. A Battle

**Chapter 5: A Battle**

In the deepest part of Camelot's dungeon, in a dank and wet cell, Merlin paced like a caged animal. His expression was tense, agitation visible in his every move. He hated waiting.

The prison was tiny, and the confinement was setting off far more nerves then he had left. Merlin forced himself into stillness, drawing a breath. None of his friends had visited him, out of fear, or by Uther's orders, Merlin couldn't say. He'd been left alone, trapped here, while Morgana ran free.

An inhuman growl escaped him and without thought, Merlin whirled. He grabbed a bar of his prison, sharp nails digging into the metal, and pulled. The metal whined, bending under his unnatural strength. It wasn't until the bar popped loose of the floor that Merlin realized what he was doing.

He gasped, jerking away. His skin felt too tight. His bones _burned_. Merlin doubled over, eyes squeezed shut, as he hissed a hot breath through sharp teeth. Not yet. He couldn't lose himself. He was Merlin. He was– was–

"Human." The word rang hollowly in his ears even as he said it.

Another shudder ran down his body, but this one left him feeling cold and quiet. His skin settled and Merlin let out a breath. He slowly uncurled, staring at his shaking hands. He flexed his fingers, trying to ignore the sharp look of his nails. Easier said then done. He swallowed hard. The curse was getting worse.

Laughter made Merlin jump. His head snapped up, sharp eyes landing on the deepest shadow outside his prison. An angry growl began to bubble up in his throat.

Morgana stepped forward, smiling unpleasantly. "Hello Merlin."

He tensed. Where were the guards? Uther would never have let her come down here unprotected, which meant this visit was all Morgana's doing. Merlin drew a breath, trying to affect an air of calm. "What are you doing here, Morgana?"

She shrugged carelessly. "I thought you could use a hand escaping." She touched the single bar he'd pried up. Merlin's stomach dropped. "I'm impressed. Apparently I underestimated you." She smiled, hand resting delicately on the metal.

Merlin flexed his left hand, trying to ignore how tight the skin felt. He stared at her through the bars. "If you think I'll go with you quietly, you have another thing coming." High above, the warning bell roared to life. Merlin's head snapped up. "What–"

"Sounds like things are getting started," mused Morgana, not the least bit bothered by the noise. "The war that will put Camelot's rightful ruler on the throne."

Merlin stared at her. "What have you done?"

"Cenred's army has just launched a surprise attack against Camelot." She grinned, eyes fixed solely upon him. "The opening act to your first battle, Merlin." He didn't suppress the dangerous growl that escaped his throat. "Now, now, save it for Arthur and his knights."

"How about I just breathe fire at you instead?"

She laughed. "I'd like to see you try." She held her arms up in challenge. Merlin grit his teeth, staying where he was. Morgana smirked, letting her arms drop. "I'll admit, I had been looking forward to dear Arthur razing Camelot to the ground, but you've managed to impress me, Merlin." She gestured once more to the twisted prison bar. "A dragon's power is quite impressive to behold."

Merlin bit back his fear. "Do you really think you can control something like a dragon?" He still remembered the rage that had made him tear the mercenaries' camp apart. He shuddered, and Morgana just watched him. She hadn't been here for Kilgharrah's attack. "You don't get it, do you."

"And what, pray tell, am I not getting?"

"Dragons only have one master, and you'll never–"

Morgana laughed. "You're an expert now?"

Merlin said nothing.

"There'll be nothing left of you once the curse takes hold. You'll be nothing more than a poor dumb beast." She smirked. "My very own pet dragon." Merlin's expression darkened. "No? We'll see how long that attitude lasts. Especially when you face Arthur– The _Great_ Dragon Slayer of Camelot! A fight to the death, no doubt."

Merlin tensed, eyes darkening. "That's not going to happen."

"Oh? What can you do?" she taunted right back. "Scream? It's not like the dead can hear you." She glanced down the empty passageway. "It's the guards own fault for trying to prevent our little chat."

Merlin felt sick. There was no remorse in her eyes, and he realized, this was it. They were past the point of negotiation. Her last chance was up. They had picked their sides, and there was no turning back, not even in the name of the friendship they had once had.

Merlin let out a breath and made a choice. He stepped away from the bars. Morgana watched him, not understanding the significance of what he was about to do. Merlin faced the bars, and raised his hand. " _Tóspringe!_ "

For a split second, utter shock appeared on Morgana's face, and then the next, Merlin's wild magic blasted away both her and the entire front wall of his cell. Dust filled the air, making him cough. He let his hand drop, heart pounding. What would Gaius think when he heard about this?

Merlin hurried over the wreckage, eyes watching for any movement. The bells were still pealing, if anything, sounding more frantic. There was no sign of her among the twisted metal and shattered pieces of stone. Merlin grit his teeth. There was no time. He needed to get to Arthur. Even with a head injury, Merlin had no doubt the idiot would try to join the fight.

Merlin raced toward the exit. At the end of the passageway, he entered the guards' post where the stairs lead to the way out. Dead bodies lay strewn about the room, the unfortunate guards Morgana had killed. Merlin spared them a sad glance, before racing up the stairs. He took them two at a time, eyes focused on the exit.

He was just nearing the top, when a voice shouted. " _Wáce ierlic!_ "

An invisible force threw Merlin backward. Ceiling and floor twisted together as he crashed down the staircase, slamming into unforgiving stone. He hit the bottom, pain tearing its way up his left arm. A horrible cry escaped his lips.

Behind him, Morgana snarled. "Traitor!" Merlin struggled to push himself up, only to be thrown back down by a nonverbal-spell. "How could you! How could _you!_ "

Merlin gritted teeth, cradling his injured arm. "You're one to talk."

"Shut up!"

He struggled to rise to his feet, hissing against the pain in his arm. He leaned back against the wall, testing his left hand. Ow. It wasn't broken, but the pain rocketing up the limb left him with no doubt that he wasn't going to be using it anytime soon.

Swallowing hard, he looked once more at the witch who stood across from him. Her eyes were blazing. "Why?"

Merlin stared at her, expression hard. "There's nothing left to say, Morgana."

"Nothing! You've sided with a murderer– with the very man who exterminates magic users. Exterminates us! We're almost extinct because of him."

Merlin was silent for a long moment. "I've sided with Arthur."

Morgana scoffed. "Uther sacrificed his wife to bring Arthur into the world, and you've done nothing but prop up those lies. Arthur hasn't fallen far from his father's tree."

"Neither have you. You call me a traitor, but you've abandoned Camelot and its people. You've dragged innocents into this, Morgana, and that makes you no better than Uther. Camelot should never have to suffer for our choices and I will not sit idle as you threaten her again. Get out of my way, Morgana, or I will go through you."

Furious, Morgana shot out a hand and yelled a spell at him.

Merlin called a shield in answer, but the spell was overblown with power and shattered under Morgana's first blow. He twisted to the side, barely avoiding the second spell she flung at him.

" _Forbearnan!_ " Merlin shouted, hand pointed toward a torch. But the spell leapt too easily from his control, exploding outward as a giant fireball that forced the two combatants away from each other.

Merlin stumbled back, tripping over the leg of a dead guard. He fell, crashing into the wall. Pain rocketed up his injured arm, making dots of colour dance before his eyes. On the far side of the room, Morgana laughed at his clumsiness, throwing another spell at him. It rocketed toward him, and in that moment, half lying over the dead guard, something inside Merlin snapped. He rolled away from the spell, spinning around so his hands and feet were under him. A snarl gathered in his throat as he lunged forward, fingers curled like talons and he came at her with a speed he hadn't possessed a moment ago.

Black scales began to appear along his skin and an unnatural gold colour entered in his eyes. Morgana panicked. Her hand shot up, trying to track him. " _Wáce ie–_ "

Too late.

Nails, far sharper then any humans, sank into her side. Morgana gasped, eyes going wide. She stared at him, at the black wings beginning to appear over his back. He raised his bloodied claws for a second strike. Terrified, Morgana blindly threw her hand out, instinctive magic lashing out and catching him in the chest.

The spell barely fazed him, but the fear she showed and her gasped, "monster!" did affect him.

Awareness blinked back into Merlin's eyes, but with it came the realization the curse almost had him. _No._ Merlin fought it. Fought the curse with every inch of his being, but he could feel his bones cracking, and his very form shifting. Tears welled in his eyes. He couldn't let this happen. He was Merlin. He was–

Something not even close to human.

His control slipped and with the anguished cry, his body changed, fueling his wild magic. It surged up into the air, and in the small space of the dungeon, exploded.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They'd been arguing out in the courtyard when the explosion rocked the castle. Arthur didn't even know what had happened at first, only that one moment he'd been on his feet arguing about joining the fight in the lower town– The next he was staring at the cobblestones inches from his nose.

The warning bells warped strangely in his ears, and panicked shouts could be heard all around. Where was Guinevere? She'd been right in front of him. That terrified thought got him moving again. He scrambled up, stumbling slightly as he looked frantically about the narrow gate, until he spotted Guinevere several feet away, rising to her feet.

"Are you alright?" he asked, but her eyes weren't on him. A look of horror was upon her features and frightened, Arthur turned to see why. Black smoke boiled up into the night sky, obscuring half the castle. What? The wind shifted and in the flickering torch light, a grate gaping hole that had once been one of the castle's sturdy stone walls came into view. All the colour drained out of Arthur's face, his argument with Guinevere forgotten.

Knights milled about, shouting to each other. Arthur started forward, only to have Guinevere catch his arm. "Arthur!"

"Let me go," he snapped, trying to pull loose, even as more stones fell away from the castle high above, shattering against the cobblestones. "Merlin's in there!"

"I know!" her voice shook, and broke. "But his cell–" She couldn't finish.

Arthur didn't want to think about it either. The dungeon had been on that side of the castle. He didn't want to think about his friend being buried under all that stone. Gods. What if he was–

That was when a terrified cry went up, a single shout that was clear even over the horrible din of battle. "Dragon!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Distant cries echoed in his ears, warping into unintelligible noise. His head hurt. Everything was dark. Wh-what was–?

Merlin choked on the heavy dusty air, struggling to get his body to move. Everything ached, his left arm most of all. He curled his fingers, nails digging into the rough uneven ground. This was wrong.

This was all wrong.

A cough escaped him, and his whole body shook. Rocks tumbled, falling, clattering loudly, too loudly, for his sensitive ears. A groan escaped his throat as he twisted, trying to escape the noise, but that only made it worse. The whole world shifted, tilting, and with a tremendous crash, suddenly he could see. Fresh smelling air stung his nose, making his sneeze.

He drew his first real deep breath, savouring the sweetness. Flickering torches peered down at him from the edges of the crumbled stones. He'd been buried alive, he realized somewhat numbly, and… and…

He could hear the sounds of battle. A sharp breath escaped him. Merlin surged up, and the debris that should have been far too heavy to move was knocked away as though made of nothing. Embers danced in the air, as he crawled on all fours out into the open. Torches lit the courtyard around him, and high above stars shone in the clear cloudless sky. The castle stood behind him, smoke obscuring the structure from sight. Merlin's left arm gave out, and he tumbled over in the uneven rubble.

He cursed, trying to get his limbs back under him. The wind shifted, brushing the smoke away. He pushed himself up and a voice on his left screamed bloody murder. "Dragon!"

Merlin's eyes snapped to the sky, expecting to see Kilgharrah's giant form swooping down over the castle, but the sky was empty. Another cry of the exact same word from his right and, well, Merlin wished it was the Great Dragon they were all staring at. The knights were pointing at him.

Merlin flinched as he caught sight of himself. Oh magic. He was– he'd– Panic set in. His claws dug into flagstones. Knights were starting to gather. Merlin's tail coiled nervously around him. They were going to box him in. Another knight yelled for backup and Merlin bolted. Pain flared in his left foreleg– arm?– making him stumble. Several knights yelled, leaping aside as Merlin tumbled through their ranks.

He forced his weight back onto the shaking limb, and ran for the castle's main gate. Shouts followed behind him. His left foreleg shuddered, threatening to give out. He wasn't going to out run anyone like this. Frantic, he dodged around a knight still struggling to draw his sword, and whipped into the narrowed gate, only to come to a screeching halt.

Before him, blocking the way, was Gwen and Arthur. All three stared wide-eyed at each other. Merlin wanted to swear. Another shout from the approaching knights and Arthur grabbed Gwen, shoving her behind him as he drew his sword. The clotpole really had been trying to join the fight.

Merlin tried to back away, but his leg buckled, nearly sending his jaw smashing into the ground. The knights appeared behind him, fanning out to box him in. His eyes darted frantically back to Arthur. There was no recognition on the prince's face, only the cold look he gave enemies. Merlin flinched. His best friend was going to kill him.

Back pressed into the wall, a half word tumbled from Merlin's mouth. He glanced anxiously back at the knights advancing on him, completely missing the way Arthur froze, and the way Gwen's hands flew to her mouth. Knights, emboldened by the prince's presence, moved closer with weapons raised.

Merlin's wings fluttering anxiously on his back, and the warlock did a double take. He had wings? His distraction was the opening the knights had been waiting for. With a battle cry one of them came at him, Arthur yelled even as Merlin panicked. His wings instinctively rose, striking the air with all the power in his muscled frame.

The closest knights were knocked away, but the rest were still advancing even as Arthur shouted at them to hold. Frantic, Merlin flapped harder, sending out larger and larger gusts of wind, until even Arthur was stumbling back, unable to keep his feet. Merlin kept flapping, not realizing he was airborne until his head struck the underside of the fortifications.

Startled, Merlin almost dropped out of the air. A spear swiped at his underbelly, and Merlin flapped harder. He rocket up, taking off into the black sky. With a breathless cry of delight he soared past Camelot's towers, climbing higher and higher, until he left the castle and its shouting knights behind.

Smoke streamed up into the midnight air, carrying dancing sparks with it. Parts of the lower town had been set ablaze. Weapons flashed in firelight as steal clashed with steal, invaders and defenders battling for the control of Camelot. Even up here away from the sounds of the castle, the deafening roar of battle still reached Merlin's ears. It was a horrible sound.

A grim look settled on his long face as he took everything in below. The outer walls of Camelot were breached and their knights were scrambling to defend the lower town. Merlin's gold eyes narrowed. Cenred's men had invaded his home for the last time.

Angling his wings, he swooped down, heading for the invading army. Cries of horror escaped the Camelot knights as he passed, their memories' of Kilgharrah's attack still strong. Merlin flew out of the lower town, aimed directly at Cenred's forces. The invaders began to cheer when they saw him. "He's here!" Merlin heard several voices cry. "The monster promised by the witch sisters!"

Too bad said monster had other ideas. Merlin drew a deep breath and from his very core a feeling of warmth rose, building, until with a mighty roar, he let loose a jet of fire. The cheering turned to cries of fear, as the invaders ducked, trying to escape the flames. Merlin flew directly over them, torching catapults and anything else that got in his way. Dipping low, he snatched up a few of the enemy knights, tossing them at their fellows, and knocking them over like pins.

Laughing, Merlin rose up into the air to go back for another pass, and was delighted to see that some of the men were already breaking rank. Those who ran, headless of the shouts of their superiors, Merlin left to their own fates as he focused on knights who fought on.

He swooped again, taking no heed of the arrows that bounced harmlessly off his scales, and unleashed another torrent of flames as he passed. As he neared the crumbling outer wall of Camelot, Merlin spied a group of Camelot knights on the battlements overwhelmed by attackers.

Making a snap decision, Merlin dove at them, curling his front foot into a fist and bashed several invaders over the head. Grinning, Merlin swooped past. His tail flicked out in delight, knocking over the defenders he'd just saved. "Sorry!" he called back as he banked, trying to gain altitude before he accidently crashed into a house. A spell rocketed by him, narrowly missing him by inches.

He twisted in the air, struggling to regain control of his flight, as another spell came at him. This time he dove under it, skimming a rooftop as he twisted his head to see who was responsible.

Morgause stood alone on a piece of Camelot's ruined defences, hand still raised, and glaring murderously at him. Smoke twisted about her, pulled in a wind, as she silently dared Merlin to come and face her.

Narrowing his eyes, Merlin changed direction, meeting her head on. He bared his teeth, readying his fire. Morgause raised a hand, not the least bit afraid as she fired off a string of spells. He rolled in the air, avoiding the first, twisting away from the second, rising over the third, and then was upon her.

"Ástríce!" she cried, throwing the flames as a final defence. With no time to dodge, Merlin charged blindly through, squeezing his eyes shut. This was going to… hurt? Confused, he opened his eyes, and found himself closing in on one very shocked Morgause. She leapt to the side, and his claws missed her by inches. His tail, however, did not.

She cried out as she was knocked into the town below, a cry that changed into a spell incantation. Unafraid of her magic, he didn't think to dodge. The spell erupted against him, and for a second nothing happened. Then a sharp electrical shock ran through him. He cried out as his wings buckled, and he fell.

Through blurring eyes, Merlin scarcely had the presence of mind to aim for the relative safety of the lower town. Forcing his wings open, he struggled to stay aloft. He barely cleared the ruined outer wall, before he crashed head first into a ramshackle house, bringing most of the structure down with him.

Dust clung to the air as the last standing wall settled into its new position. Merlin coughed, body shuddering with every gasping breath he took. His whole body throbbed unpleasantly with after shocks. That was stupid. Fire was a dragon's element. Of course it hadn't hurt him, but other spells, ones not of a dragon's element, those were still fair game.

A fallen timber shifted, crashing into the dirt. He struggled to get his limbs under him, claws digging into the debris, looking for perches. He spat out a mouth full of dirt. Embers danced in the air, bright sparks against the black night.

A heavy silence hung, broken only by the crunch of gravel beneath uneven, faltering feet. Merlin struggled to turn his head, eyes blurring with every blink. Morgause stood behind him, just outside the ruined home, a bloody gash on her forehead dripping into her wild eyes. Merlin struggled to rise, baring his sharp teeth at her, even as his limbs trembled beneath him. His nails bent painfully on the rough ground, and with a lurch he realized he was changing back. He couldn't feel his wings anymore.

"Damn you," cursed Morgause, stumbling over her own feet.

There was no time. He drew a breath, intending to breathe fire, only to have his throat sear with pain. He choked, coughing on the smoke, gagging and gasping. The witch's hand came up, and Merlin barely rolled to the side in time as the one remaining wall of the house exploded in his place.

Snarling, he leapt, diminished claws out and teeth bared. Morgause's arm turned defensively, shouting a spell for a shield, as his bulk came down on her. He crashed into the invisible barrier, digging into it, and the spell shattered under his hands. He slammed into Morgause, sending them both crashing onto the cobblestones. Her head struck the stones first, but he barely noticed as he drew his right hand back, sharp nails aimed for her throat–

"Merlin!"

He whirled, snarling, ready for a fight, to attack–

Arthur.

Merlin froze, unable to breathe as the prince recoiled from him. Oh no. No no no. Arthur was staring at him like he was an animal, like– like he was– a monster.

Merlin's body diminished, sinking fully back into weak human flesh. Back to normal, even as everything else fell apart. He shuddered, throat tight. It felt like he'd swallowed rocks. He stared up at the prince. What could he even say?

The silence between them felt heavy.

But Merlin still had courage, even if it flickered like a dying flame in his chest. He drew a breath, clenching his hands. "Arthur?"

Arthur's sword came up quick as a flash, aimed directly at his chest. Merlin stared at the blade even as the prince snarled. "Step away from there, Merlin."

The lower town burned around them, the ruin of so many lives.

Merlin turned his head away, swallowing hard. This was a nightmare. Fighting back tears, he rose shakily to his feet, cradling his left arm as he stepped away from the unconscious witch and away from Prince Arthur.

Backing away on trembling limbs, Merlin bit his lip. He couldn't show weakness. Not now. Not while Arthur was looking at him like– _that_. Merlin's back hit the crumbling outer wall and he stumbled, good hand snapping out to steady himself **.** A hiss escaped him as the burn onhis hand, the one from that stupid little pitcher, reminded him painfully of its grimaced, but if he let go of the wall, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep his was the last thing he needed, falling flat on his face right in front of the prince of Camelot.

Across from him, Arthur moved, never letting Merlin out of his sight as he checked on Morgause. Was she dead? Merlin couldn't bring himself to care. He turned his eyes away, taking in their surroundings. Cenred's army was retreating, but their location was right in the way of any knights trying to flee the city.

"This place isn't safe, Arthur," Merlin said quietly, voice rough from the flames he'd choked on.

The prince startled, eyes snapping to him, and this time Merlin didn't miss the fear lurking in Arthur's gaze. The prince glowered. "I don't need you, of all people, lecturing–"

Merlin flinched.

Arthur stumbled on his words, but his temper was quick to get him going again. "What were you even thinking? You're not a warrior, Merlin, you're not supposed to kill–" Arthur floundered, the unsettling fear growing brighter in his eyes. His gaze danced briefly to the crumpled witch at his feet.

"I know." Merlin stared at the ground. "But I have."

"Why?"

This time Merlin did look up. "I'm not above defending my home!"

"You turned into a bloody dragon!"

"You think I had a choice!"

They stared at each other, tension crackling in the air. Arthur's sword remained raised, while Merlin clamped both his hands down on the rough stone behind him, anchoring himself to the spot. This couldn't possibly get worse.

Shouts rose up from town. Merlin's heart plummeted as a group of Camelot knights rushed to the prince's side. "Prince Arthur!"

"Sir Bors," Arthur said, never once lowering his sword. Merlin stayed where he was up against the wall, half hidden in shadows, silently watching as the knights fanned out over the area.

"My lord, it's not safe here," said the knight, Sir Bors as he came up beside Arthur. "I've been ordered to escort you back to the castle."

But Arthur shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't follow that order."

"My lord?"

"I'm guarding a prisoner."

Merlin stiffened. No, he took it back, this was far, far worse.

Surprised, Bors's eyes darted to Merlin. Given that he was supposed to be in the dungeon, and not running around a battlefield, Merlin supposed the look was warranted. He just wasn't prepared for the next words that came out of Bors's mouth. "Sire, the dragon was seen going down in this area."

Arthur's eyes locked on Merlin, and the warlock found, despite himself, every one of his muscles tensed. He silently stared at the prince, waiting for the words that would damn him.

He wouldn't beg though. He wouldn't grovel. Maybe it was pride, but he had always met Arthur levelly in the eye, giving just as well as he took, and even with a sword pointed at his chest, he would not collapse to his knees begging acceptance or forgiveness for what he was. He was a warlock, a Dragonlord, and, even if it was thanks to a curse, a dragon. He was what he was, and he wasn't sorry for it in the slightest.

Arthur drew a deep breath, tearing his eyes away. "See to her transfer to– whatever's being used as a dungeon."

Both Merlin and Bors faltered. "My lord?" inquired the knight.

"I've successfully captured the witch who kidnapped Morgana," answered Arthur as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "See to it that she's restrained and properly imprisoned before she wakes up and causes more damage."

"Of– of course," answered Bors, eyes flickering back toward Merlin. "But, Sire, what about–"

"I'll deal with it." was his clipped answer.

Bors must have been feeling particularly brave that day because he added. "And the dragon, my lord?"

"I'm dealing with it," Arthur ground out. "Dismissed."

Unable to argue with a direct order, Bors called over another knight and together they carted away the still unconscious Morgause. Merlin watched them go, not really sure what he should be feeling. Relief? Dread? It was just him and Arthur now. Well, him, Arthur and the prince's very pointy sword.

Another silence fell. Embers drifted past in the air between them and from several streets away knights began to call orders back and forth to each other, but in that little space just before the walls, it was only the two of them.

Merlin absently brushed his thumb over the cool stones behind him. He wondered how far he'd get if he made a run for it. Out into the plains where Cenred's army had stood? To the forest beyond?

"Well?" Arthur suddenly spoke up. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

Merlin winced as his left arm gave another throb of pain and drew it across his chest, only realizing then his shirt was once again missing. He did his best to hide his embarrassment as he regarded Arthur. "You haven't said _how_ you're going to deal with me."

Arthur's expression blanked, but his eyes were still too bright. The truth scared him, and so in true Arthur fashion, he avoided it. "You've all but admitted to poisoning Morgana, Merlin. How am I supposed to react?"

Merlin's temper caught hold of his tongue. "How _you're_ supposed to react?" He grit his teeth. "You insensitive prat. That's the part you want to talk about? Not the _I'm a bloody dragon_ bit?"

Arthur was silent. Eyes fixed upon him.

Merlin let out a slow breath, sagging wearily back against the rough uneven stones of the outer defence. He stared up at the sky, hoping absently that he'd catch sight of the stars.

What time was it anyway?

He felt exhausted right down to the bone. "Can we… not beat around the bush?" He paused, but just as before Arthur had become reluctant to give any comment. "Look, I know it's only today you found out about Morgana, but…" Merlin hesitated. "This has been going on for months, Arthur. _Months._ Morgana sent us to go find a monster. And you know what? That was supposed to be you. Only… well, it's me." He paused. "I guess I'm lucky like that." His smile was brittle, and already cracking at the edges. For the first time Arthur looked away. "Will you give me a head start?"

The prince jerked, hands tightening on his sword. "What?"

"I'm already dead for the whole poisoning thing, and now, being… a monster, I guess it's doubly so." He couldn't look at Arthur. "Your father's going to send you after me, so, really, I just want to know, do I get the chance to run before you kill me?" Finally Merlin looked up, expression calm, and utterly unafraid.

The sword began to shake in the prince's hands. Arthur wanted to scream. He wanted to yell at Merlin. _Idiot! Stop being such a stupid bloody idiot!_ But he was terrified. There was a power there, lurking inside the skinny pale servant, one that had turned his klutzy friend into something completely unrecognizable, and that… that was… it scared him.

"Sir Bors has already seen you with me, Merlin. I… I can't let you go."

His friend gave a weak laugh, looking utterly exhausted. "That's too bad, I… I don't think I could run anyways." His legs gave out, and Merlin sank gracelessly to the ground.

Alarmed, Arthur rushed forward, only to remember himself. He couldn't help. But his servant still noticed the aborted attempt, and gave him another understanding and utterly miserable looking smile. It pulled at something inside the prince, and before Arthur could think, he was blurting out, "How can you still act like that?"

Merlin shrugged as though he didn't have a care in the world. "I'm still me." A knowing look crossed his face, but it was the far too perceptive eyes that made Arthur want to recoil. "I would never hurt Camelot."

It was a promise, a vow, but…

Merlin sighed. "It's hard to believe the word of a monster though." He nodded his head as though he understood.

He probably did. Merlin knew him too well.

His servant raised a single hand. "So here we are." And Arthur realized he wasn't the only one that was shaking. "I'm at your mercy, my lord."

Arthur's anger rushed back worse then before. "Stop it!" he shouted. "Stop thinking that I'm going to kill you!" His words brought them both up short. Merlin stared at him with something very close to surprise and didn't that sting.

Then his servant gave another sighed. "Arthur, you're pointing a sword at me."

"That's–" he tried to protest, but his weapon was still raised, rattling visibly in his grip. He swore, trying to steady his hands.

Merlin's eyes darkened. "You can't say you're not afraid when your hands are shaking."

"I'd be a fool not to be scared! You turned into a monster!"

Merlin flinched. "I-I didn't ask for this." He hugged his chest tighter, looking pale and ill. "I didn't."

Arthur came up short. Merlin… his friend was scared of himself, and suddenly the prince, no matter his own fears, he couldn't un-see it. His idiot manservant had faced down Morgana without fear, was facing him down without fear, but when it came down to himself…

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. This was all wrong. Merlin was supposed to be his overprotective, and somewhat incompetent manservant, not a violent, bloodthirsty monster who… who was now shaking like a leaf, more scared of himself then of Arthur.

Curse it all.

Slowly, and against every instinct he felt, Arthur lower his sword. Merlin blinked, staring at the blade before his gaze snapped to Arthur, silently trying to understand what the prince was doing. Arthur snorted, as though it wasn't clear enough already. "You're an idiot, Merlin," his voice wasn't as steady as it should have been, he just hoped it was enough.

Another owlish blink, and Arthur realized he was going to have to make the first move. Taking hold of his scabbard, he sheathed his sword, before closing the last of the distance between them. He stopped before his friend, and silently held out his hand.

Merlin stared at him like he'd never seen Arthur before. The blond didn't move, waiting for the other to make the next step.

Merlin swallowed hard. Hesitantly he raised his arm, fingers curling away from the prince's outstretched hand. Arthur simply waited, and after a moment Merlin placed his hand within Arthur's own, allowing the prince to yank him to his feet.

Merlin stumbled, legs uncoordinated, until Arthur stepped in and steadied him. Still hesitant, Merlin couldn't help but point out. "You don't have to do this." Arthur grimaced. "I could still–"

"Don't even think about finishing that thought, _Mer_ lin." It was surprising how easy it was to speak, even if recent events were still leaving him reeling. "Morgana could still be prowling about."

Merlin was silent for a long moment. "She attacked me, earlier, in the dungeon."

Arthur's eyes darted to the destroyed northern wall. "I see." He knew Merlin had said Morgana had magic, but gods, to see the evidence of her power. "I suppose we're lucky she didn't decide to blow up the whole castle."

Merlin grimaced, looking ill, but said nothing.

Arthur hesitated. "Do you know if…?" he couldn't finish, uncertain he wanted to know the answer.

Merlin shook his head. "She didn't escape, and she was hurt. I–" His hand twitched, but he didn't elaborate.

"We'll worry about it later then. Come on, let's get you to Gaius." Merlin glanced at him nervously. Arthur sighed. "Do I have to spell it out? I'm not arresting you, and I'm not turning you over to my father." Merlin gave him an incredulous look. "We'll– we'll figure this out, Merlin. I give you my word."

Merlin could still see the fear in his eyes, a fear they both shared, but despite it, Arthur really was trying to get past it. A genuine smile slowly graced the warlock's lips as he silently nodded.

Arthur started forward, and together they slowly began to hobble their way back toward the castle, leaning on each other for support. It wasn't till they reached the upper town that Merlin softly spoke. "Thank you." _For not abandoning me._

Arthur didn't respond, but the slight squeeze he gave Merlin's shoulder was answer enough. _That's what friends are for._

 **000000000000000**

What a mess of a chapter. I don't know how many times I've taken it apart and rearranged it. The first scene with Merlin in the cell is the worst of the culprits. I've lost track of all the rewrites, but various versions had the warning bell ringing sooner or later, and his encounter with Morgana shifting about, from what you have above, with him still in the cell, to an early draft where Merlin escapes and runs into her seconds after she's murdered the guards.

The pacing was pretty tricky in this chapter, what with all the dramatic encounters and battles taking place. So I was being very careful that the sense of tension wasn't lost through this chapter. Hopefully, I've managed to do the dramatic twists and turns justice.

Funnily enough, in an early draft of the scene where Merlin and Arthur are talking at the wall and one of the knights shows up. I actually had Sir Leon showing up instead of Sir Bors, which I realized was a silly idea since Leon just showed up last chapter hobbling out of Morgana's and Morgause's trap. I figured him running off to battle right on the same day was a bit of a stretch. Plus Arthur seems to have that angle covered already.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this exciting chapter and the appearance of Merlin the dragon. We've got one more chapter to go after this, and then, dear readers, this story will be complete.

Next time, the final chapter: In which Merlin goes looking for a cure, and tries to settle with the idea that Arthur _knows_. Look for Chapter 6: A Cure on April 1st.

Till then lovely readers and big thanks going out to my reviewers! You guys have been great. Till next time!


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